Unforgivable Solution
by Gohanna
Summary: He knew that it was Gabriel's way of reminding Sam of the deal they had made six months ago and it was time to reveal the second secret that Sam had purposely withheld from his older brother. Sam had to reveal the truth about Purgatory. Sequel to Unforgiving Antidote.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_. Anyway, hope you all enjoy, and as you would have guessed this is the last secret that Sam has to tell Dean in order to fulfil the deal he made with Gabriel. Sam now has to tell Dean the truth about what happened while Dean was in Purgatory.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think. This chapter was honestly a pain in my ass. It feels like _**Remedy**_ all over again!

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Sam Winchester was scared.

He was sitting up, feet placed on the side of his bed, body soaked in sweat, his chest heaving violently as he fought to contain and control his rapid breathing; one hand resting on his forehead, his other hand clenched tightly beside him to the point where his hand was beginning to ache because of the force of his hold upon the mattress which was helping to steady his slightly swaying body as well as reassuring and anchoring him to this world, this reality.

Nightmare.

Of _course,_ it was a nightmare.

What the hell did he expect after he'd just faced Lucifer in the cage again, having all of his fears and insecurities come crashing down around him after learning that the visions Sam had _thought_ he'd been getting from God, had in fact, been from Lucifer himself, all in a devious ploy to get Sam all by himself so Lucifer could weaken Sam and get the youngest Winchester to say "yes" again, while Lucifer ran amuck top side, wearing Sam's skin as his own, promising that he alone could defeat the Darkness for good and all Sam had to do was say one little three letter word and Lucifer would clean up Sam's mess by getting rid of the Darkness once and for all.

But, contrary to popular belief, Sam hadn't folded and given into Lucifer this time. He had said "no", had every intention of saying "no" even if he had to remain in the cage with Lucifer for eternity once again. Sam had learned his lesson. He would _never_ let Lucifer take control of his meat-suit ever again.

Thankfully Dean and the angel Castiel had come to his rescue and the three of them had managed to keep Lucifer preoccupied long enough until the powerful witch Rowena – Crowley, the current King of Hell's mother – was able to send Lucifer back to his cage forever.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the grip upon his bed easing as he ran his free hand down his face, wiping off the lingering sweat and tears that remained upon his face, a low self-deprecated moan escaping him, bitterly disappointed with himself.

He couldn't believe how easily he had succumbed to Lucifer's conniving, deceitful trap. He couldn't believe how gullible and naive he had been. After everything Sam had been through; after everything the brothers had witnessed and seen, you would think that Sam would be more onto it than this. You would think that he would have _learned_ not to be so trusting.

When the hell had the Winchesters ever had Lady Luck on their side? And for Sam to believe that God himself was sending Sam messages, visions on how Sam could go about defeating the Darkness … if it wasn't so tragically pathetic, it would be laughable.

Sam growled low in his throat, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Why the hell would _God_ send Sam – of all people, after all of the bad he had done, the boy tainted with demon blood, meant to lead Lucifer's rising army and to eventually house Lucifer himself – messages of a divine nature?

Now that Sam truly thought about it, he realized how foolish it was to think that God would ever want to help the likes of _him_. But, in Sam's defence, he didn't know that the cage had suffered damage when the Darkness had been released; and it had been whenever Sam had _prayed_ for a way in order to defeat the Darkness that the visions of the cage would be projected unbidden onto Sam; and he knew what he had to do, even though the very thought of facing Lucifer ever again left a cold, anxious, gnawing pit of terror within him.

Sam had tried to ignore the meaning of those visions, had tried to dismiss them as flashbacks from the time he had spent in the cage; but when the brothers learned who and _what_ the Darkness really was, that's when Sam began to take the visions more seriously.

Maybe God really was reaching out to Sam. Maybe He did want to help the Winchester siblings. Maybe He had decided to step in and do something for once, considering that the Darkness was in fact Amara, God's freaking sister.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean lay upon his back, hands linked behind his head, remaining completely still, his breathing even, eyes closed. If anyone had seen Dean Winchester right now, they would assume that the man was comfortably sleeping and relaxed … but they would be wrong.

Dean wasn't sleeping at all. He was wide awake, his body on high alert, tensed and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice; Dean's jaw was clenched together so tightly that he knew his jaw muscles would be sore for days to come as he listened to his little brother's broken sobs.

Dean's closed eyes squeezed together more tightly, his heart breaking at Sam's wrecked and shattered sobs. Dean ached to go to his brother, to help soothe and settle him down, but Dean knew from past experience that Sam wouldn't appreciate his big brother's comfort at the moment. Instead, the younger Winchester would become more embarrassed at Dean having caught him in such a weakened and vulnerable state.

Still, if this continued for much longer, Dean would go to his brother and gently coax him awake, if only to stop the completely heart-wrenching sobs that emanated from his younger brother. Sam could get pissed and embarrassed at him as much as he liked, but there was only so much that Dean could bare; especially when it came to his kid brother being hurt, in pain or in mental anguish.

It had been three weeks since Sam's encounter with Lucifer in Hell, in that dreaded cage that Sam had suffered over a hundred years of torture at the hands of Lucifer and Michael.

And for the next two weeks, Sam had woken up screaming in such a blood curling way that Dean had felt as if Sam was in mortal danger. It hadn't taken Dean long to realize that these nightmares were a combination of Hell memories as well as the recent confrontation with Lucifer himself. And no matter how many times Dean had pleaded, begged and bargained for Sam to tell him about those nightmares, in an effort to help relive his little brother's suffering by taking on some of Sam's burden himself, Sam had refused point blank to tell Dean anything that had happened in Hell.

Dean could understand that because, he himself, hadn't told Sam even _half_ of what he had endured in Hell. But still, Dean wished that Sam would at least open up a little bit about his experiences in Hell.

Even though Sam wouldn't tell him about the nightmares he'd been having because of Hell, it hadn't taken Dean long to piece together what Sam was dreaming about; his terror filled screams, broken up by phrases of frantic pleading for mercy, that immediately gave way to cries of such agony and anguish, that Dean wished he could summon Lucifer for a little one on one with the elder Winchester, where Dean could deal with that son of a bitch once and for all.

Dean couldn't help but feel a certain amount of guilt at Sam's onslaught of nightmares. If only he had been there with Sam, in Hell, when Sam had faced Lucifer, like he was supposed to be, then maybe Sam would never have gotten locked in the cage with Lucifer in the first place.

But, instead of being by his brother's side – like he _should_ have been – Dean had been off having a conversation with Amara, fighting to understand that _pull_ that she had upon him.

They were connected … _bound_ because of the Mark, she had explained. And just as she couldn't harm Dean, Dean would never be able to harm her.

Dean had tried to dismiss that – had thought she was talking through a hole in her head, because Dean Winchester didn't believe in destiny or fate – but the amount of times Dean had come face to face with Amara, he had failed, not only to kill her, but to hurt her in any way, shape or form. And Dean was suddenly scared that maybe Amara was right. Maybe Dean couldn't hurt her … even though he _knew_ that's what he had to do.

When Crowley had wanted to take Amara – even though Dean knew that Amara was the Darkness because he had seen the Mark of Cain upon the baby's shoulder – Dean's first instinct wasn't to kill Amara. No, he had felt a wave of intense protectiveness filling him, furious that Crowley thought _he_ could take Amara away with him. Dean had wanted to protect her and keep her safe, even though he knew how wrong and fucked up that logic really was.

Still, Dean could logically justify his actions and feelings toward Amara because there was no way that Dean could ever kill a baby, no matter how evil they were or would turn out to be. He wasn't quite that heartless or cruel.

It wasn't until the Winchester siblings had decided to storm the old abandoned psychiatric hospital where Crowley was keeping Amara – teaching her, probably wanting to use her immense power when she grew into them because Dean knew how Crowley ticked and the King of Hell always wanted to be on the winning side – determined to take Amara out before she had a chance to gain the true potential of her power, that _pull_ of Amara – now a young teenager – becoming so strong that Dean had become distracted. And it wasn't until Sam was sent flying through the door with a wave of Amara's fingers that Dean had fought against that almighty _pull_ and had acted more on pure big brother instinct than anything else – because _nobody_ was allowed to hurt Sammy, ever! – and had advanced to attack Amara.

Dean had seen the look of shocked surprise upon Amara's face before she threw Dean into the wall, knocking him unconscious, but not before Dean had seen the look of hurt upon the young girl's face.

And it was in that moment that Dean realized how _dangerous_ this attraction he had with Amara could be. Because of their _bound connection_ and bond that the two of them shared because of the Mark, Dean had let his guard down. He had allowed himself to become _distracted_ and because of that oversight, Sam had gotten hurt.

Dean had failed in his big brother duties and had allowed his little brother to be hurt; and all because of this seemingly weird _pull_ that Amara had over Dean.

It was then that Dean began to truly get scared. It was in that moment that Amara's words and the meaning of them became so blindingly obvious that it terrified Dean to the very core of his being.

Some outside force was once again determining the relationship he had with his brother, trying to undermine Dean's brotherly instincts, trying to turn him against the very kid that he had raised.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Sam had released the Darkness not more than six months ago and now, with Amara fully grown, her powers increasing drastically as one day rolled into the next, causing havoc and destruction around her by sucking out people's souls.

So, when the visions had become more specific, Sam had latched onto them, with a child-like faith and belief that these visions had to be a sign from God.

Because if God was sending Sam Winchester messages – the boy who had stooped so low as to drink _demon blood_ – then it was possible that someone like Sam could indeed be saved, that God himself, had forgiven Sam for all that he had done. And if that was the case, then there was hope for Sam yet.

So, like the foolishly, stupid, naive, trusting child that he was, Sam had latched onto that notion, hope flaring within him again at the chance to be able to finally redeem himself once and for all.

Dean had tried to tell him, warn him, that Sam shouldn't get his hopes up. But Sam had dismissed Dean's reservations, ploughing ahead like a some damn amateur rookie, to the point where he'd even managed to convince his skeptical older brother that they had nothing to lose by going to Hell and talking to Lucifer face to face.

And they hadn't had anything to lose.

Knowing that they were up against God's sister, there weren't too many beings around who knew anything about the Darkness before she'd been sealed up by God and his archangels.

God didn't seem to want to a face to face with the Winchesters to explain what he knew about his sister, and of the archangels who had helped God to seal up Amara in the first place, only Lucifer could provide them with the information that they needed; all of the rest of his archangel siblings either dead or incapacitated.

Even if Lucifer screwed them over, it had been a risk Sam was willing to take because he truly _believed_ that God was on his side, sending him messages, trying to guide Sam in the right direction.

Boy, had Sam gotten that wrong!

Not only had Lucifer screwed them over and played Sam for a fool, but Dean had been right all along. If only Sam had _listened_ to Dean, then …

Sam let out a tremulous sigh, sick and tired of being manipulated and controlled by these sanctimonious angel assholes, snorting at himself in disgust as he realized how _easy_ it was for these _angels_ to pull Sam's strings, to make him _believe_ that God actually gave a damn about someone like Sam Winchester.

Sam's head hung dejectedly, so angry and pissed off with himself because it had taken all of six months for Sam to forget the promise, he had pledged to himself to _always listen_ to his older brother and to not put his own beliefs over his brother's.

Damn it! Why the hell couldn't Sam do _anything_ right?!

And now … now he was suffering from nightmares – which is the least that the younger Winchester deserved, considering that he was the one who had started this whole mess by releasing the Darkness in the first place.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Six months ago, after Sam had sacrificed everything to release Dean from the Mark of Cain, after Dean had become so very close to killing his own brother, drowning in his own guilt and remorse at the things he had done and said to Sam while possessed by the Mark, he didn't realize that his younger brother was also dealing with his own darker feelings, fighting his own inner demons and Sam had almost been lost to him forever.

Sam had decided to do a spell; a spell in order to change the brothers lives forever. He wanted to change one aspect of his life so that he would never walk down the dark path Yellow-eyes had set out for him all of those years ago, wanting nothing more than his big brother to have the life that he deserved and a little brother who would never betray him, never disappoint him and never fail his big brother ever again.

Unbeknown to both brothers, the spell that Sam cast was a trick – acting more like a curse than an actual spell – devised by the ex-trickster-archangel Gabriel. He had constructed a world specifically for Sam, where every decision Sam made would turn out bad and everyone Sam loved and cared about would eventually turn against him, leaving the youngest Winchester alone, vulnerable and so low that he would be forced to kill himself in order to truly save his beloved older brother once and for all.

Dean hadn't been there with his brother in the weirdo, destructive world that Gabriel had constructed for Sam, forced to remain by his younger brother's _real_ body, watching as Sam's body grew colder and colder, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening, feeling so damn helpless that Dean had almost given into his own despair.

Through a mental link, Dean was able to maintain with his brother any time he placed a hand upon his younger brother's rapidly cooling body, Dean was able to "see" what Sam was going through in that alternate, weirdo-bizzaro world, seeing everyone that the kid cared about eventually turn on him – including the _him_ in that world – leaving Sam so emotionally low that Dean honestly feared that Sam would agree to "Bobby's" plan to end his own life, end Dean's suffering by putting a bullet through his brain.

Thankfully, Dean was able to go into that bizzaro world and stop Sam before he followed through with "Bobby's" plan to kill himself, ready to fight for his younger brother's life – his very soul – knowing that he couldn't – _wouldn't_ – be able to live if Sam was no longer by his side.

It hadn't taken the brothers long to realize that the "Bobby" here, in that messed up world, was not _their_ Bobby, because he would _never_ want Sam to end his own life. And as this not-Bobby tried to turn the brothers against each other by bringing up their worst failures, their worst misunderstandings, they had eventually realized who the real culprit was.

Gabriel, archangel-ex-trickster himself, somehow managed to escape death at Lucifer's hands and had returned in order to teach the Winchester siblings a lesson in trusting, not only themselves, but each other as well; to put everything that had happened in the past and to move forward, to become the brothers who had beaten the angels, the demons, the archangels and Lucifer himself; who had defied their own fated destinies and had made their own futures all because they had _believed_ in the power of their brotherhood and the bond that the two brothers shared.

Gabriel.

Even though his method had been cruel and heartless, his heart had been in the right place. He had only wanted to help the brothers see the error of their ways, to strengthen their bond and their belief in each other and themselves so that they would be capable of facing the biggest threat they had ever faced to date; the Darkness, Amara, God's sister.

Still, Dean had made it quite clear to the rouge archangel that if he ever did _anything_ like this to Sam again, Dean would track him down and teach the ex-trickster a lesson he'd never forget.

Dad being there in that weirdo, bizzaro world had been a surprise. Gabriel had needed a blood link to the brothers – either living or dead – in order to put this crazy plan of his into motion. Dad had helped Dean to enter that other world and Dean honestly didn't know if their Dad had been there to help them or to rip into them for all of the mistakes they had made over the years.

Dean had been furious with his Dad, because he couldn't _see_ how dangerous and stupid this plan had been; the siblings hadn't known this was a lesson, they hadn't known that it was an elaborate hoax cooked up the ex-trickster.

Dean had _thought_ his brother was in serious, mortal danger. And Sam … he had been reduced to a mere shell of the man he had been, so bitter and hateful toward himself that for days after the brothers had been returned to the real universe, Dean had kept a close, worried, anxious eye on his younger brother in case Sam fell into the deep pit of his own despair, remorse and guilt.

But Sam had been fine. Well … he'd been better than Dean had expected him to be after everything that had happened to him in that strange, weirdo-bizzaro world. There had been the lingering after-effects of nightmares because of what Sam had experienced there, but other than that, the kid had seemed to bounce back to his normal emo-girly self.

Of course, Sam hadn't truly relaxed until he had revealed to Dean the phone message that he had kept on his phone for the last six years and what an important factor that message had played in Sam's ultimate decision to face down Lilith and kill her, unknowingly breaking the Final Seal and releasing Lucifer from his cage.

Dean had been horrified by the message Sam had received that night, knowing that wasn't the message Dean had left for his little brother.

It hadn't taken Dean long to figure out that Zachariah had changed the message in order to give Sam the extra _nudge_ he'd needed in order to play his part and kill Lilith.

Damn freaking angels still couldn't help but interfere in the Winchesters lives!

Dean had been mortified to think that his brother had listened to that poisonous message over the years, believing that that was what Dean actually _thought_ about his little brother.

After a lot of begging, pleading, _talking_ and too many damn emotions, Dean had finally been able to convince Sam to delete the message and both brothers had agreed to put that part of their lives behind them forever. It was time to forgive themselves and each other because they had both gotten _played_ by the angels and demons who had wanted to jump start the apocalypse by using the brothers to achieve it.

Still, like Sam had said, the angels hadn't won; the Winchesters had stopped the intended apocalypse; they had beaten both the angels and demons and they had done it _their_ way.

And it had worked. Slowly, Dean had felt the reservations he'd felt about his younger brother of not being capable enough to make his own decisions begin to melt away. He'd felt the ill-conceived perceptions Dean had gotten because of his little brother's mistakes over the years, begin to fade because Dean had finally realized that _he_ was also to blame for the brothers lack of faith and belief in each other and themselves.

Yeah, Sam had made some impressively, massive mistakes over the years, but so had Dean. And as much as Dean hated to admit it, Gabriel's plan had worked. The brothers were closer than they had been in years; in sync with each other and slowly working back to the brothers they had been before all of the angel and demon bullshit had gone down.

But now, six months later, and it looked as if Dean had forgotten that particular lesson because he had left his baby brother to face Lucifer _alone_ while Dean had gone off with Amara, distracted with the mysterious _pull_ this supernatural being had on him; ignoring the call from Sam, abandoning Sam when he'd needed Dean the most.

Dean was pissed off with himself for putting his brother in danger yet again because of Amara. But more than that … Dean was damn right _terrified_ of what this actually meant.

Would Dean stand in Sam's way if Sam decided to take a crack at Amara? Would Dean _harm_ Sam if Sam tried to kill Amara? Would this unnatural _pull_ and particular bond that Dean shared with Amara override all of his other instincts, including his big brother protective instincts?

Dean stared worriedly up at the ceiling, not knowing what would happen if it came down to protecting either Amara or Sam. He knew that his big brother instincts should overpower _everything_ and anything, but when he was around Amara, he couldn't stop the _pull_ that this woman had on him. And the fear of what he could do to Sam if it came down to it, flat out terrified the older hunter to the core of his very being.

Dean would be useless in the ultimate showdown with Amara, he knew that. And he also knew that he had to come clean to Sam about this inexplicable _pull_ that Amara had on him, but for now, Dean would be the best big brother that he could be, still hearing his little brother's broken sobs as Dean got up from his bed – Sam's embarrassment be damned! – and made his way to his younger brother's room, intent of waking Sam from this latest nightmare and soothing his baby brother back into a better, undisturbed sleep.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Being plagued by nightmares wasn't anything new to the youngest Winchester because he'd suffered from nightmares for his entire life. The nightmares had never really ceased in Sam's life or gotten any better or easier to deal with. He'd just gotten better at _hiding_ them; acting like they didn't faze him or down playing the nightmares when he'd had no choice but to confide in Dean because Dean could be a stubborn, persistent ass when he wanted to be.

Sam hadn't deliberately wanted to deceive his brother, and at first it had started out in a need to shield and protect his older brother the only way he'd known how to when he'd been a kid.

Growing up in the hunter's life like they had, having to share a room – and nine times out of ten, even having to share a bed – having no privacy what so ever, Dean had always been aware whenever Sam was in the midst of having a nightmare. Dean had always been there to comfort Sam and soothe him back to sleep, never once complaining or getting frustrated with Sam no matter how many times Sam woke him in the middle of the night because of his nightmares.

On extremely _bad_ nights, neither Winchester sibling would be able to get any sleep, Sam being too scared to sleep and Dean staying close to Sam, not sleeping as the two of them watched old cheesy movies all night long.

It hadn't been long before Sam began to notice the toll his nightmares were beginning to take upon his older brother. Not only because of the lack of sleep, but because of the anxious, alarmed, worried look that had become permanently etched onto his older brother's features.

And then Dean's school work began to suffer as did the training their Dad had required Dean to do on a daily basis (Sam had been too young to train at this time).

But it wasn't until John and Dean's argument – the worst argument the two of them had ever had, John and Dean almost coming to physical blows, John demanding to know why Dean was acting so lethargically, why he wasn't putting in one hundred percent; didn't Dean know that innocent lives were on the line; Dean's own life or Sam's could be taken in an instant if Dean didn't start taking this seriously. Dean could have told Dad that all of his sleepless nights was because of Sam's nightmares, Dean could have blamed Sam for all of it, but Dean hadn't. He had kept his mouth shut and protected Sam, knowing that their father wouldn't be as understanding as Dean was about Sam's constant nightly terrors – that Sam had truly understood and appreciated the devastating toll all of this was having upon his older brother. And Sam had promised himself to try and lighten the load for his big brother.

He had tried to down play his nightmares when Dean asked about them, had tried _not_ to wake Dean up after he'd had another nightmare. And when he'd had the really bad nights, Sam had pretended to go back to sleep, wait until Dean had fallen asleep before Sam would sit up and watch Dean sleep for the rest of the night, too scared to move or breathe wrong in case Dean's "Sammy-sense" alerted him to something not being right with his little brother.

At first Dean hadn't been fooled by Sam's act, rolling his eyes at Sam's lame explanations about what Sam's nightmares had been about, or bringing Sam closer to his side after Sam had awoken from a nightmare. But, eventually, gradually Dean had lost that anxious, worried look, the dark circles under his eyes beginning to recede and Dean was able to function better at both school work and his training sessions.

After that, Sam had made sure never to worry Dean so much with his continual nightmares so that Dean would never get into trouble with their Dad ever again because of him.

Sam had tried his hardest not to bother Dean whenever he'd had a nightmare. He'd tried to be quiet, tried to keep his shivering and shaking down to a minimum, tried not to let Dean see how much his nightmares really affected him. And as Sam had gotten older, the more control he had over his own body and reactions to his nightmares to the point where he didn't wake or disturb Dean, where he could slip out of the bed, spending the night huddled in the bathroom – if it was a particularly bad one – or on the couch, sitting in the dark until he'd felt safe enough to climb back into bed and lie by his brother's side without setting off Dean's internal "Sammy-sense".

Of course, now that Sam was older, he realized that he hadn't fooled his older brother at all. Because every time Sam had woken from a nightmare, Dean was there, holding him close, reassuring him with a simple touch or a word, soothing Sam back to sleep, all while pretending to be asleep himself.

And the more Sam thought about it, he could vividly recall times, both past and present, where he'd thought he had effectively fooled Dean into believing that Sam was fine, only to wake up held protectively within Dean's arms when Sam had begun to shake or shiver because of his nightmare; or if Sam had spent the night on the couch or in the bathroom, he would wake up covered in a blanket or his big brother gently coaxing his younger self back to bed.

Sam realized that he hadn't fooled Dean at all. Just as Sam had gotten good at trying to _pretend_ that everything was fine, Dean had gotten even better at taking care of his obstinate and fiercely independent younger brother.

But now that the two siblings no longer shared a room – or a bed – it was easier to conceal the nightmares from Dean, easier to keep Dean from worrying about his pain in the ass little brother.

Usually Dean would have hardly any knowledge of Sam's nightly nightmares, but this time … after being back in the cage with Lucifer, forced to remember his epic failures and having Hell memories forced down his gullet … these recent nightmares had been bad.

Bad in the fact that everything Sam had suffered at the hands of Lucifer and Michael was now shoved to the surface. Bad in the fact that every night for the past three weeks, Sam had woken up screaming, his voice hoarse and cracked with emotion, reliving every single event he had been forced to endure in the cage. Bad in the fact that Dean was once more getting that permanent look of anxious fear upon his face again, concerned and worried about Sam's nightmares, but not knowing how to bring it up or talk about it because Sam would _never_ reveal everything he'd gone through in Hell; just like Dean would never reveal his time in Hell in any great detail to Sam either.

But this nightmare had been different – just like it had been every night this past week. This nightmare hadn't caused Sam to wake up screaming in terror, reliving the pain and torture he'd suffered at the hands of Michael and Lucifer, or confronting Lucifer face to face as Lucifer forced Sam to walk through his greatest mistakes and epic failures.

No, this nightmare had Sam waking up in tears, the ache in his chest filled with loss and abandonment as Dean walked out the door and left Sam behind forever, wanting nothing more to do with his pain in the ass little brother once he'd learned the _real_ reason why Sam had quit hunting and went to live a life of normal while Dean was stuck and trapped in Purgatory, fighting for his life, fighting to get out so that he could see Sam again.

In this nightmare, Dean had been betrayed one too many times by the little brother he'd raised and lived his life for, and he had no problem with leaving Sam behind forever, because now he knew the truth, the truth behind Purgatory and what Sam had done …

Sam shivered slightly in both cold and fear, the sweat upon his body now cooling as Sam recalled that nightmare with vivid clarity and detail. He knew the reason why he had had this particular nightmare. He knew what it meant and what he had to do.

He knew that it was Gabriel's way of reminding Sam of the deal they had made six months ago and it was time to reveal the second secret that Sam had purposely withheld from his older brother.

Sam had to reveal the truth about Purgatory.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_.

I apologize in advance to anyone who is a Benny fan. He will not be displayed in a favourable light in this story.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**Special Thanks: **to **Pie Love Luci** for your kind words and review. Thanks also to everyone else who has read, added or favourited this story. Your support and appreciation really means a lot.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Dean approached his younger brother's slightly ajar bedroom door, a low light emanating from beneath the door and he knew by the choked off sounds of his brother's sobs that Sam was now awake.

Dean hesitated outside the door, not sure if he should go in now or leave his brother alone. He knew that Sam would be mortified that he had woken Dean up again by crying in his sleep – screaming nightmares seemed more acceptable to Sam than waking up crying – but Dean couldn't seem to shake the apprehensive and nervous feeling he got whenever he heard his younger brother's broken wails and sobs.

Somehow these nightmares Sam had been having for the past week were different than the Lucifer nightmares of his time spent in Hell. These nightmares left his baby brother shattered almost to the point where Sam would be broken by all repair; to the point where he would burst into tears, clinging to Dean so tightly and desperately that he was afraid Dean would disappear at any moment.

Dean thought that maybe these latest nightmares had to do with the life that Sam lived in Gabriel's fucked up bizzaro world, but the way Sam would look at Dean, tears within those large puppy-dog hazel eyes, a sad and knowing acceptance upon his features, almost as if he _knew_ Dean was going to leave him eventually, made Dean dismiss that idea altogether.

Because, even though the _him_ in that freaky world was a complete douchebag who had left Sam _alone_ to fend for himself, making Sam feel miserable and more guilty because he had walked away claiming that their brotherhood was over, Dean had made it blatantly obvious that _he_ would _never_ walk away from Sam. And there was _nothing_ Sam could ever have done or would do in the future that would ever make Dean disown his own brother, _ever_!

After nearly loosing Sam in that other world and realizing how much his younger brother was drowning in his own guilt, remorse and regrets for past actions which had caused fractures between the brothers and because Sam had thought that he had failed his big brother and maybe Dean would be better off without him – cursed, was the word Sam had used. Sam had thought he was nothing but a curse to the Winchester family and that everyone would have been better off if he'd never been born – Dean had suddenly understood that it was because of his own actions and words that Sam had gotten such a low self-opinion and self-worth of himself.

That incident, as much as Dean hated Gabriel with a vengeance for putting his brother through all of that crap had opened Dean's eyes to the fact that not only could he lose Sam by Sam being mortally killed or injured, but that he could lose Sam in a whole different way where Sam would just close up on himself, becoming more depressed and sick at heart with worry, his stupid guilt complex crushing his brother's very soul to the point where Sam would be so completely devastated, so _lose_ that the only option was for him to take his own life.

It had scared Dean how very close he had come to losing his geeky little brother to his own darker emotions, drowning in unfounded guilt, reliving shit that should have stayed buried in the past where it belonged, because it had taken nearly everything Dean had to convince his stubbornly, stupid little brother that Dean didn't blame him for _anything_ that had happened and that Dean would _always_ need his nerdy brother by his side.

Since then, Dean had been trying to build up the kid's confidence and self-worth, listening more to Sam and taking more interest in Sam's life than what he had in years. And it felt good to be the older brother again. It felt good to be _brothers_ again. Letting go of all of that apocalypse fiasco had been the best thing Dean had done in a long time. Which had made it that much easier for the brothers to become in sync with each other once more.

Things had been good. Really good. And if it wasn't for the fact that Dean was now a liability where Amara was concerned or that his baby brother seemed to be falling apart at the seams and nothing Dean did or said helped to ease his brother's hurt or brokenness, making Dean feel helpless to know _how_ to help Sam, then Dean would have to admit that their lives were about as good as it could get.

The two of them hadn't been this close, this synced and connected in years. And it felt damn good to get back to that. To finally have his brother back in his corner once more.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

As if the constant nightmares of reliving every horrendous, torturous thing he had ever endured in the cage at two pissed off archangels' hands, wasn't bad enough. As if confronting Lucifer face to face in the damn cage in _Hell_, in Lucifer's domain, being beaten to a pulp and going through his greatest hits of epic failures wasn't bad enough.

Now he was having nightmares about _that_ time, when Dean was in Purgatory and what he had done, what he had gone through in order to get his big brother released from Purgatory, and as if that wasn't bad enough, now Sam could feel the whip marks that he had received in Gabriel's alternate, crazy world at the hands of that world's John Winchester, come flaring back to life.

The whip marks had never completely left Sam's back but they had faded to almost non-existent after Sam had revealed the first secret to Dean; the phone message that he had kept for the past six years, thinking that that was how Dean really saw him and how he perceived Sam to be.

But the whole message had been a manipulation of the truth caused by the angel Zachariah, in order to drive a wedge in between the two siblings so that Sam would kill Lilith, fulfilling his task of destroying the Final Seal and releasing Lucifer from his cage, jump starting judgment day and the impending apocalypse.

Finally, after both brothers had talked, Sam had gotten the courage he'd needed to delete that message once and for all, letting go of that chapter in the brothers lives, both of them forgiving each other for the misunderstandings that had cropped up between them during the whole angel-demon-Ruby-demon blood-apocalypse catastrophe. Both of them realizing that the two of them had been manipulated and controlled every step of the way during that time.

Forgiving Dean had been easy because as far as Sam was concerned, Dean had done nothing wrong. Forgiving himself had been far harder. But the first step in being able to start to forgive himself had been deleting that damned phone message.

Sam couldn't help but wincing or the slight gasp that escaped him before he even consciously realized he had vocalised it as a slight tremor ran up and down the length of his body, the marks on his back making themselves known once more.

Sam hadn't been able to sleep with a shirt on for the last couple of nights, the whip marks flaring up to such a degree that it was almost _painful_, the fabric of his shirts irritating the whip marks, making it extremely uncomfortable to wear any clothing upon his back at all. It was bad enough during the day, Sam honestly couldn't fathom the thought of spending all night in a shirt or singlet which would only aggravate his whip marks even more.

Instead of the wounds healing, it was like they were _un-healing_. Sam was fairly confident that by tomorrow the whip marks on his back would be oozing and dripping blood, open wounds, just like they had been as if he had actually gotten whipped in the first place.

The dreams themselves would have been more than enough proof for Sam to know that it was time to reveal his second secret to Dean. But, no. The damn ex-trickster had to rub salt in his wounds – quite literally this time! – to remind him by bringing back to life the horrendous wounds he had gotten in that alternate world, caused by a drunken, abusive father who had thought the only way he could save Sam was to beat the evil out of him.

Sam sighed wearily, all of the anger he'd felt at Gabriel just moments ago, leaving him. The timing for this couldn't have been worse. Not only was Sam still trying to wrap his mind around actually coming face to face with Lucifer himself and realizing that he had been played and manipulated once again, but now he had to deal with a whole new set of memories of a time that he would rather forget; of a time that he had successfully pushed into the dark recesses of his mind; of a time that he'd always vowed Dean would never learn about; of a time when he had done things so terrible that he'd offered up the lie of him settling down for normal, of abandoning his big brother, rather than tell Dean the truth.

But now … now Sam had to come clean to Dean. He had to tell Dean what had really happened when Dean had spent the year in Purgatory with an ex-angel of the Lord and a rouge vampire.

But he didn't want to. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him _not_ to tell Dean, to leave things as they were. Dean had eventually gotten over Sam abandoning him and going to live a slice of normal. Things were _good_ between them now. Did Sam really want to screw that up by admitting to what had really transpired?

No. He most definitely _did not_ want to tell his brother the truth. But …

Sam hadn't wanted to reveal this secret like this. He'd wanted to prepare more. Maybe get Dean a little drunk and fed up on his favourite foods before he spilled his guts, telling Dean the _real_ reason why he had given up hunting and left Dean to rot in Purgatory.

But … if the wounds on his back were any indication, Sam didn't have the time to prepare Dean for this. He'd been too preoccupied with Lucifer, the cage and the knowledge that he had released God's psychotic sister out into the world. And now that he realized how long it had been since the Darkness had been set free, it was too late to plan this confession as well as Sam would have liked.

Tomorrow would likely be the last day Sam had left in which to reveal the big Purgatory secret. Or maybe tonight, Sam silently amended as he could feel the whip marks upon his back growing wider with every breath that he took.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

A low, mournful, guilt-ridden sigh from inside the room had Dean snapping back to the present, his big brother instincts on high alert whenever he heard his brother sigh like that because that sigh meant Sam was dwelling on shit he shouldn't be dwelling on, on stuff that had already happened.

That was Sam though. He couldn't help but run through every possible scenario, every decision made or not made, looking at it from every possible angle to see if there could have been a different outcome if he had only done this differently or said that.

Stupid, idiotic emo little brothers, torturing themselves over things that didn't even happen, going over everything with a fine-tooth comb, making themselves sick with worry for no damn reason at all.

Dean had learned long ago that playing the "what if" game never did anyone any good, least of all himself. And it hadn't taken Dean too long to understanding that that sort of worry was a one-way trip down a dead-end street.

The only time Dean ever played the "what if" game was when Sam got hurt on a hunt or some insensitive asshole had dared to hurt his little brother's feelings or put that pained, anguished, guilt-ridden look upon his baby brother's features.

Still, whenever that happened, Dean usually killed the evil son of a bitch who had managed to get the upper hand over Dean, physically hurting his brother on a hunt, or he had gone after the bastards who had hurt his brother on a whole other level and had taught them _why_ no one was allowed to mess with Dean Winchester's little brother.

Dean was a man of action. He let his emotions lead him, never second guessing his decisions or doubting his own abilities as a hunter. He was brash, acting on instinct and high emotions as the adrenaline coursed through his system, not pausing to think things through as he just reacted to any given situation he was involved in … except where Sam was concerned, those applied rules went out the window and Dean tried to act with a bit more caution and a lot less instinct involved.

But if Dean had given into his impulsiveness and had said something or done something to unintentionally hurt Sam, that's the only time Dean second guessed himself.

His little brother's health, safety and happiness had always been Dean's number one top priority. And it seemed as if these values still held true today. As corny as it sounded, as long as Sam was healthy, safe and happy, then everything was all right in Dean's world and he knew that he had succeeded in protecting his kid brother from all forms of evil and harm.

But now, Dean knew he had managed to fail his little brother big time. He had let Sam get hurt – both physically and emotionally – when he had let Sam face Lucifer alone.

Knowing that he had failed his brother so completely always left Dean feeling hollow and empty inside. He couldn't go and kill the son of a bitch who had hurt Sam or teach the King of Lies a lesson he'd never forget because Lucifer was locked back up in his cage, deep in the bowels of Hell. Which was a good thing, but damn, Dean wished he could pound that fuckers head in. He wished he could find a way to get rid of Lucifer for good, because that dick always had a way of coming back and hurting his kid brother all over again.

Dean had only barely managed to supress his own long drawn out sigh, his hand clenching into fists and uncurling again in an effort to release some of his pent-up anger. Sam didn't need Dean's anger right now. Nor did Sam need Dean's own guilt at not having been by his little brother's side when all of this had gone down.

No, what Sam needed right now was Dean's unyielding support and understanding. And Dean silently vowed to give Sam all of the support and time that he needed in order to get through this; and to be there to listen _if_ Sam ever wanted to talk about it. That was the least he could do for his brother after he had failed so badly in his big brother duties.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Knowing his big brother like he did, Sam knew that Dean had probably known the exact moment Sam had woken from this nightmare, and he was probably lurking outside Sam's door, waiting for the chance to come in and check on his emotionally distraught little brother.

Sam snickered softly at that thought.

Dean most likely hadn't even been sleeping at all. He'd probably sat outside Sam's door, standing guard, waiting for the exact moment when Sam would need his big brother to come to the rescue.

In all seriousness, Sam knew that Dean was worried about him. And it killed Sam knowing that Dean felt so helpless in this situation, but Sam couldn't confide in Dean about this. He couldn't tell Dean the true extent of his nightmares this week because that would be opening up a whole can of worms that he wasn't ready to deal with at the moment.

But now it looked like the decision had been taken out of his hands. It was time for Sam to reveal his second secret, the one of why Sam had given up hunting and given up on his brother.

Sam could, of course, refuse to go through with it. He could refuse to tell Dean anything of that time. But if he didn't tell Dean, Gabriel had promised to send Dean into his _own_ reality of private hell, and Sam could never allow that to happen to his brother. Dean had already been put through enough hell in his life, there was no way Sam would be purposely creating more pain for his brother.

It had been easier for Sam to lie and live with the constant jabs, insults and disappointment that his big brother threw his way even to the point of replacing Sam with the vampire Benny, than to admit to the full truth of what had transpired the year Dean had been stuck in Purgatory.

Sam unconsciously shivered at that name, glad that son of a bitch was dead and, in a place, where he could no longer hurt either brother. Even though Dean had come to rely on and trust Benny implicitly, Sam knew that eventually _he_ would hurt Dean too. And that would have crushed Dean completely.

Dean didn't trust too many people as it was. If he was to learn what Benny's _true_ purpose in all of this had been … Sam couldn't bear to see that disappointed, disgusted, _broken_ look upon his older brother's face when he realized that he had been betrayed by someone he had trusted with his life.

Which was another reason _why_ Sam hadn't been completely forthcoming with the truth. He didn't want to be the one to tell Dean that his new _friend_ had manipulated and played his older brother for a fool. And even though Sam had to reveal the truth, he knew that he would never intentionally hurt Dean, which was why Sam had no intention of revealing Benny's role in this whole thing.

His brother had been betrayed enough by people that he had trusted and looked up to. Sam would _not_ hurt his brother more by revealing that bit of information. Surely Gabriel wouldn't mind if Sam omitted a few … _little_ things from his confession. With what Sam told him, Dean should understand everything Sam was saying and meant without Sam having to go too _deep_.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean still hesitated with his hand upon Sam's bedroom door. He wasn't hesitating out of fear … well, not fear exactly, maybe apprehension was a better word.

Sam's mood swings lately had swinging between turning in on himself – which was typical little brother fashion when confronted with an ordeal that brought him emotional trauma – and becoming viciously snarky, almost foaming at the mouth in rage, his words and actions meant to cause hurt on a scathing level, leaving Dean reeling in guilt and shock because that was _not_ how his little brother behaved.

If Dean didn't know any better, he'd swear that Sam was actually channelling Dean himself. Because that's exactly how Dean acted when he was backed into a corner. Dean would come out swinging, using both his fists and his sharp, silver tonged mouth in order to cause the maximum amount of hurt that he could.

Whenever Sam lashed out at Dean, his words and accusations bordering on cruel, it would take everything Dean had in him not to retaliate, to remember that his brother had been through a traumatic experience and was just lashing out because of his own guilt and frustration.

Normally all Dean would have to do is to call out to Sammy and the sound of his voice would break Sam out of that vicious, snarling inner rage and he would revert back to Dean Winchester's little brother, apologizing profusely to Dean and retreating to his room, so ashamed at his behaviour toward Dean that Sam would refuse to see Dean, no matter how much Dean pleaded or begged.

After a few hours, Sam would eventually unlock his door, find his big brother and apologize all over again, promising that it would never happen again. But it always did. And Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about his little brother's erratic and out of character mood swings.

But because Dean didn't know exactly what was going on in his kid brother's head, he had no idea how to counter his volatile, almost violent mood swings. Sam wouldn't – or couldn't – talk about it and Dean honestly didn't know what else he could do to get through to his stubborn pain the ass little brother.

There were other times when the sound of Dean's voice wouldn't snap Sam out of his aggressive mood – not very often, but it did happen – and the only thing Dean could do to counter it was to wrap his little brother in his arms, taking the fists to his chest silently, just holding on tighter until Sam's hits became weaker and then Sam would burst into tears, all of the anger and aggression leaving him just as suddenly as it had come, apologizing tearfully until Dean would lead his now pliable little brother into his room and put Sam to bed.

Sam would eventually cry himself to sleep in exhaustion, the look of utter devastation and guilt that was carved upon his baby brother's face caused Dean's heart to ache in sympathy with the kid.

Sam didn't ask for any of this. Not the hunter's life, nor the fact that the devil himself had an unhealthy obsession with the younger Winchester and liked nothing better than to tease and torment the kid, leaving nothing but pain and guilt in his wake. It wasn't Sam's fault that he was now acting out like this. He was only doing what he had seen. He was only copying how Dean would act and behave in that type of situation.

Although why the kid wanted to emulate someone like _him_, caused Dean to shake his head in bewildered bafflement. Dean was a lot of things – a big brother, a good hunter, a chick magnet – but a good role model was not one of them. Sam had to have rocks in his head to be want to be like him.

Dean shook his head to rid himself of these disturbing thoughts. It didn't matter _what_ mind frame Sam was in. All that mattered was that Dean be there for Sam now.

Dean pushed Sam's door open a little bit more and was relieved to notice that his brother was sitting up and no longer trapped in the nightmare that had caused such anguished wails and sobs to tear from his brother's throat.

But the relief didn't last long as Dean took a closer look at his brother, noticing that small tells Sam would unconsciously give off when he was only barely just holding himself together.

Sam's broad shoulders were tensed far more than Dean liked to see, shivers of fear or apprehension or left-over residue of the horror of the latest nightmare were wracking his brother's slight frame.

Dean frowned, noticing for the first time exactly how _thin_ his brother had gotten and decided to make more of an effort to get some food down his brother's throat.

Sam's hand was clenched onto the mattress so tightly that his hand was turning white, low sighs and growls of self-disgust erupting every few seconds from his obviously hurting little brother.

Although Sam's fringe blocked Dean's view from looking directly into his brother's eyes, Dean could make an educated guess that all he would see would be pain and misery; and maybe a bit of anger and frustration at himself for letting Lucifer have such a strong psychological hold on him, even though he knew that Lucifer was locked back in his cage in Hell and the likelihood of Lucifer actually getting out to cause more harm to the youngest Winchester was next to impossible.

Still, Dean could understand and relate to the kid's terror. Even though it had been years since Dean had been rescued from Hell, there were times when he would still wake up, sweating profusely, a scream of terror and horror stuck in his throat, Alistair's face looming up in the shadows of his mind as Dean relived his own torture in vivid technicolour at that sadistic fuck's hands.

Or, on the more darker nights, Dean would wake up, a perverse sort of pleasure tingling over him, reliving his own torture skills as he carved up the next soul on the rack, his rock hard erection revealing how turned on he had been in the dream, how much Dean had _enjoyed_ torturing that poor nameless son of a bitch.

And then next would come the shame, the disgust and the overwhelming feeling of Dean being one hell of a sick bastard himself because he shouldn't be enjoying what he had done in Hell; he shouldn't be on an almost ecstasy high when he dreamed of torturing those souls in Hell.

These were the nights when Dean would bolt out of bed, rushing to the toilet to violently expel everything inside of him, almost as if he were trying to purge those _wrong_ feelings of pleasure and accomplishment from his body, from his very soul, as Dean wept bitterly, silently berating himself and wishing – not for the first time – that he had never been rescued from Hell at all.

Dean was the Michael Sword? He was supposed to house the archangel Michael who had always obeyed God's orders no matter what, who was good down to the very core of his being?

Yeah, right!

Dean was no solider for Heaven. He was not an agent of the Lord. He was only a man; a broken man with lots of flaws and sick perverted pleasures. He never had the right to be forgiven by _anyone_, let alone God. He was imperfect, impure and so very far from a Holy man it wasn't even funny!

Dean was a hypocrite. He knew that. Here he was badgering Sam to tell him about his time in Hell, the nightmares that had consumed his brother these last three weeks, when Dean would _never_ reveal his own nightmares of Hell to Sam.

It wasn't because he feared Sam would be ashamed of him or sickened to learn how much his big brother had enjoyed torturing innocent souls – although that was part of it – because Dean knew Sam would never hold Dean responsible or accountable for anything. Sam would immediately absolve his big brother of any guilt or left-over feelings of perverse pleasure that he had of that time.

No, it had more to do with the _image_ Sam had of Dean. Dean didn't want to appear anymore tainted or sick or perverted than what he already was in Sam's eyes. It may be egotistical of him, but Dean never wanted Sam to see him how he truly was.

He always wanted to be a hero in his little brother's eyes. He always wanted to see the look of admiration, love and adoration that would shine within the depths of those puppy-dog eyes. He never wanted Sam's image of him to be tarnished in anyway. And it wasn't pride or ego. No, it was in an effort to protect his brother.

Dean had lost the person he'd admired most in his life, the person he'd always looked up to and wanted to be like; the person who had meant everything to him – after Sammy of course – and it wasn't because that person was now dead.

Dean had lost that person when he realized how very human and fallible he was; how very _wrong_ he had been in how he had raised his sons and what he taught them, how he had never had any problem in putting either of his sons in compromising positions in order to catch the fugly of the week so he could save some innocent lives and be the hero; how he had conspired with the ex-trickster-archangel Gabriel in order to trap his youngest son in an alternate horror world so that he could _talk_ to his sons one more time.

Having the faith and belief that you felt for your hero, being ripped out of you as you realized that person was completely different to the image you had of him in your mind … it felt like a piece of you was being tarnished and blackened beyond all repair. It hurt, it made your head spin and it left you reeling, questioning everything you had ever believed in. It was a real head fuck.

And if Dean could prevent Sam from going through what Dean had gone through when he finally understood what sort of a man his Dad, his hero, really was, then Dean would do everything in his power to do that, even if it was hypocritical of him, even if other people thought he was stroking his own ego.

Dean had always done whatever he could to protect Sam – be it from the truth or from being hurt – and that was one thing that would never change. Dean would always protect Sam … even if it meant protecting Sam from Dean's own inner darkness and his perverted pleasures.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Sam was no fool.

Sam knew that the knowledge that he had given up hunting and had left Dean to rot in Purgatory had caused a scar within his brother's soul that had never completely healed.

As far as Dean was concerned, Sam abandoning Dean to his fate was the worst betrayal Sam could have ever committed in his life.

And Sam had to agree with that assessment. That _was_ the ultimate betrayal; the last straw which had caused serious damage within the brothers lives; Dean becoming so sick at heart that he had lost faith in Sam and had, instead placed his faith and confidence in Benny.

The vampire.

The very vampire that had saved Dean from Purgatory and proceeded to drive that wedge further between the brothers even though _Benny_ had known the truth.

He _knew_ what Sam had done to get his brother free from Purgatory. He _knew_ what Sam had given up, the terribly low point that Sam had sunken to – _worse_ than becoming addicted to and drinking demon blood – in order to get Dean out of Hell's backyard; to return Dean back where he belonged, by Sam's side again.

Benny _knew_ the sacrifices and the humiliation Sam had been forced to endure in order to keep up his end of the bargain so that Benny could lead his brother out to safety, out of Purgatory.

What Sam hadn't counted on was that damn vampire wanting a ride out of Purgatory with Dean. But Sam should have known. He should have known that Dean would feel indebted to Benny and would want to save Benny from that hell if he could, because Benny had been the one to tell Dean how to escape Purgatory.

The fact that Dean never questioned _how_ Benny had come across the secret way out of Purgatory both frustrated Sam and made him feel grateful at the same time.

Grateful, because at least Dean hadn't questioned Sam too much and had believed Sam's lie of hitting a dog, meeting a girl and settling down for normal with ease, without Sam having to reveal the truth.

Frustrated, because the only reason Dean had ever come across that information about the back door out of Purgatory was because of the deal Sam had made with one of the oldest monsters in the word's history … the Alpha Vampire.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_.

I apologize in advance to anyone who is a Benny fan. He will not be displayed in a favourable light in this story.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**Special Thanks: **to **Pie Love Luci** for your kind words and review. Thanks also to everyone else who has read, added or favourited this story. Your support and appreciation really means a lot.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Sam was nervous.

More nervous than he could recall being since he was a rebellious teenager and knew that he would encounter his brother's wrath for some dangerous or stupid stunt he had pulled which had managed to put himself in danger.

Sam had never liked being reprimanded by his older brother, and that still hadn't changed now that he was a grown man. In fact, he liked even less now that he was an adult because he should damn well _know_ better.

It took a lot for his big brother to become truly pissed off with Sam. Sure, on the surface, Dean wore his anger on his sleeve, but anyone who really knew Dean, knew that his anger was a substitute for his worry.

Dean didn't like to express his feelings or emotions too much, so anger and sarcasm had become his shield, his coping mechanism. It kept people at arm's length so that Dean wouldn't get too attached, too invested. But it also doubled as a means of his worry and concern.

Underneath the gruff exterior, his big brother, tough-as-nails, big bad hunter, was nothing more than an emotional teddy bear, who tried not to get too close to people because being brought up in the hunter's lifestyle, Dean had watched a lot of people he cared about get hurt or worse. So, Dean pretended to act like he didn't care, when deep down his older brother cared _too_ much.

And, on the rare occasion when people did break through Dean's gruff exterior and became close to him despite Dean trying to push them away, that's when Dean would stop acting so macho and become the gruff old teddy bear who cared too much.

Sam couldn't help but grin at that thought, knowing his brother would absolutely hate being compared to a teddy bear, but the grin slipped from his lips when Sam recalled why he was scared and nervous and expecting to be reprimanded by his older brother.

Purgatory.

Benny.

The Alpha Vampire.

The lie he had told Dean in which he had settled for a life of normal and abandoned his beloved older brother to his fate.

All of that; everything he had done; everything he had allowed to be done to him; the truth about who Amelia really was … all of that had to be revealed now.

Sam had to tell Dean the truth. And that terrified him more than having to face the damn Devil again. Bring on Lucifer. Sam would rather face Lucifer again than admit this truth to his brother.

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed over a lump of fear that had lodged in his throat, pushing back the memories that now tried to overwhelm and consume him.

Not yet. Sam couldn't fall apart yet.

He took several slow, deep and even breaths, the feel of the bed underneath him, grounding him, letting him know that he was where he belonged; he was safe.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean quietly observed his kid brother, watching as Sam's tremors began to ease, his grip upon the mattress slowly relaxing as Sam slowly, but surely began to pull himself together.

The tension was still there, but Dean could tell that Sam had reeled in his emotions from the brink and he was no longer on the verge of falling apart, falling to pieces right in front of Dean's eyes.

Dean couldn't help but grin proudly. That was so typical of his little brother. Just when you thought Sam was down and out, he would come back better and stronger than ever.

Sam was a hell of a lot stronger than anyone gave him credit for. People – and supernatural beings – always thought that Sam was the weaker of the Winchester siblings. They thought that because Sam wore his heart on his sleeve that made him weaker, more vulnerable. And while sometimes it might make Sam more vulnerable, it definitely didn't make him weaker.

Dean couldn't recall the amount of times Sam's determination and quiet strength had helped to get the brothers out of trouble. Dean would never openly admit this, but he envied Sam's willingness to never give up and to keep fighting no matter what.

Dean had the same determination and desire to see things through to the end as Sam did, but Dean's reasons were completely selfish. He was either trying to save someone he cared about or trying to dodge all of the evil sons of bitches that came their way or another end of the world catastrophe, that the two of them had found themselves caught in the middle of once again.

But Sam … Sam _wanted_ to save as many people as he could; he was driven by his desire to set everyone free (and that included the evil bastards they were hunting).

It was Sam who had reminded Dean that they hunted evil and they saved the innocents, even if the innocents at the time might be vampires that feed off of cattle to survive and the evil was a human vampire hunter known by the name of Gordon Walker.

Dean hadn't wanted to admit Sam was right, every instinct in him was screaming to kill the vampires and be done with it, but after what he had seen, Dean couldn't deny it any longer.

Their job, the hunts they did, were not as black and white as Dean had thought or had been taught to believe. Now Dean realized that the hunts and the monsters they hunted had shades of grey, just like life did. And after that, nothing was the same for Dean anymore.

It had taken Dean a long time to reconcile this new revelation with his old views and beliefs; to understand that some monsters were not bad, they were just trying to survive and get on with life just like everyone else.

But Sam had accepted that notion with barely any conflict of interest what so ever. Sam had always thought outside of the box; he'd always come up with a possible answer on why certain supernatural beings would act the way they did.

Dean didn't care _why_ the monsters behaved how they did; he'd only been concerned with how best to stop them and destroy them. How to kill them was all Dean ever cared about when he researched for a hunt.

Through Sam's quiet determination and strength, Dean had been able to accept those inconsistences with his own views – and his Dad's views – on how hunts should be. And it was because of this, that Dean was more compassionate than when he had been when he'd been hunting those years without Sam.

Dean hadn't realized it then, but Dean had needed Sam, and not because it was his job to protect and look after the big twerp – although that was some of it – but because Sam brought out a better side of Dean; a caring, kind and compassionate side.

Sam, as much as he was vulnerable to his emotions, he was a hell of a lot stronger than Dean because he could _change_ people's perspectives, making them better people just by being around them.

Dean needed Sam because Sam brought out the humane side of Dean. Sam made Dean a better person who now had morals and a better understanding of how the world worked, thanks to his little brother's inner strength and determination.

Dean's soft, gentle smile vanished in an instant – and not because his thoughts were bordering on chick feelings – because Sam's posture wasn't quite right. Although Sam's body still remained somewhat tense, it was too stiff for Dean's liking … almost unnatural and uncomfortable.

Dean frowned, noticing the way Sam was inhaling in small, shallow breaths; almost as if he was protecting an area of his body, almost as if he was trying to hide an injury or to alleviate the pain of said injury.

Wait a minute, had Sam been injured more than what he'd said he was when he faced Lucifer alone in the cage? Had Sam been hiding an injury from Dean all of this time?

Dean's eyes narrowed sharply at the implications of that thought. Just when Dean was beginning to let his guard down and trust Sam again, only to now learn that Sam was _hiding_ things from him again? Being secretive and not trusting Dean enough to tell him about a possible injury which was still giving him trouble three weeks later?

Did Sam not learn _anything_ when he was stuck in Gabriel's nightmare, alternate universe? Because Dean sure as hell did. And he thought the two of them weren't going to keep secrets from each other anymore. They were trying a different way, a more open and honest way. And now Sam was hiding an injury and not trusting Dean enough to tell him about it, keeping secrets and –

_But you haven't been completely honest with Sam either, have you? What about Amara?_ A little voice in the back of Dean's mind whispered, halting Dean's anger in its tracks.

That was a valid point, Dean reluctantly conceded. Dean couldn't very well march into Sam's room and erupt in anger, becoming pissed off because Sam had been keeping secrets while Dean was keeping a fairly big secret from Sam himself.

It didn't matter if it _felt_ different because Dean was the older brother and he was only keeping quiet about Amara because he was trying to protect Sam, while Sam had to be forth coming with his own secrets because how could Dean do his job to look after his little brother if Sam didn't tell him what was going on?

No. Dean had to stop only seeing Sam as his kid brother. Dean had come to accept that he would _always_ worry about and want to protect his little brother from harm because that was just who he was. But what Dean had to also understand was that Sam was a man now. A very capable, strong and independent man who was more than competent enough to make his own choices, his own decisions. Dean had to see Sam as an _equal_.

And while Dean understood that – he had known it for a long time now – it was a lot harder to put into practice, to actually follow through and allow his brother the freedom he craved to make his own choices, whether they would turn out badly or not.

It was a lot harder than Dean had thought for Dean to let go and not question every action Sam made out of brotherly duty or worry. But Dean was trying. And he would keep trying until he got it right.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Sam wasn't a fool.

Even though Dean claimed that he no longer held a grudge or cared about Sam's past mistakes; even though Dean insisted that he had moved on and was trying very hard to help Sam forgive himself and move on, to move forward as well, Sam knew that Dean would never completely forgive him for abandoning Dean in Purgatory and going off to find a life of normal.

Sam know that act of betrayal had caused a wound in Dean so deep that it would never completely heal, but the two of them had learned to move past it. They had worked hard to avoid issues that would bring either to the brothers' distress.

At least, that's what they used to do; before Gabriel; before being trapped in an alternate universe; before the brothers had almost lost each other once again.

Now, because of the lesson Gabriel and their Dad had tried to teach them, both Sam and Dean were trying to do things a bit differently, trying not to repeat the same disastrous cycle they had been repeating for years now.

And, as hard as it was to break a life time of habit, both Dean and Sam had made a conscious effort to change. Sometimes you couldn't help but fall back on old habits, like Sam was doing by withholding the subject of his dreams, or Dean was doing by not telling Sam everything he knew about the Darkness. Maybe, by the end of the night, both brothers would be able to pull themselves and each other out of their funks and get back on track once more.

Everything had been working well – before the whole meeting Lucifer in Hell fiasco – and they were getting back to a place where their brotherhood felt more real and natural in years.

Did Sam really want to mess with that peace and comfortableness that the brothers now shared?

No. No, he didn't. But Sam also knew that if he didn't do this; if he didn't tell Dean the truth then Dean would pay for Sam's cowardice and impulsiveness. If Sam hadn't been so impulsive, wanting to change one aspect of his life in order to change Dean's own destiny of going to Hell for such an ungrateful little brother, then Sam wouldn't be placed in this terrifyingly awkward situation of having to come clean to Dean about what had transpired when he'd been in Purgatory. Or, Sam could sit back, do nothing, and allow Dean to be dragged away to his own fucked up alternate universe.

Sam wouldn't let Dean suffer because of his own actions. So, that meant Sam had no option other than to keep his promise to Gabriel and to reveal to truth to his brother.

Still, Sam wasn't a complete idiot.

He didn't expect Dean to forgive him once Dean knew the whole, awful truth. In fact, Sam was trying to prepare himself for the worst. He was trying to coach himself that it was more than likely Dean would be shocked, hurt, disgusted, dismayed, disappointed … maybe even sickened once he knew everything. Maybe this revelation would be what would finally force Dean to walk out on Sam forever.

It was hard to know how Dean would react or what he would do once he knew everything, but Sam had to try and prepare himself for every possible outcome, no matter how horrible or devastating it might be.

Sam didn't know if revealing this would make things better or worse between them. He fervently hoped – with the same child-like belief and trust which had made him susceptible to Lucifer's cruel mind games – that Dean would still stand beside him, still be his brother once he knew everything, but Sam also had to prepare himself for less fortunate outcomes.

Because if Sam couldn't forgive himself for what had happened, then how the hell did he expect Dean to forgive him?

Sam was extremely nervous.

He wasn't a fool.

And he was scared.

Scared of being rejected by the one person who meant everything to him; scared of being rejected by the one person whose opinion Sam would always value.

Now it was time for Sam to reveal the horrifying truth of what had happened the first few months Dean had been in Purgatory. Once Dean learned the truth, he would either accept Sam or he would finally abandon his little brother … there was no in between. Dean would either accept him or abandon him.

Sam desperately prayed that their newly developed brotherly bond could stand this shocking revelation, although he was equally prepared to walk away if that was what his brother wanted.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sam detected a slight movement at his bedroom door and he _knew_ that Dean was on the other side of that door, waiting for permission to enter.

The moment of truth had finally arrived.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean's anger cooled. And now that he wasn't running on his anger fuelled instinct to march into Sam's room and demand to be told the truth, Dean realized that Sam hadn't been hiding an injury at all – well, not an injury that was three weeks old – no, this injury was new.

Although where the hell Sam had picked a new injury up from, Dean didn't know because the two of them hadn't worked a case for the last three weeks. Unless … maybe it was an old injury playing up.

Sometimes, on the rare occasion, Sam's back would play up, pain would radiate from his back from the scar Sam had received when Jake had stabbed his little brother in the back and left him for dead.

Maybe that's what this was. Just an old injury flaring to life.

Dean shuddered at that particular thought. That was the worst moment in his life. He could remember holding his little brother's lifeless body, not giving a crap about anything or anyone because the Yellow-eyed demon had won. He had taken their Mum, their Dad and now Sammy, the little brother he was supposed to protect and look after was now dead in his arms, killed by one of Azazel's psychic kids and Dean had felt his entire world ending.

Everything had been taken from him. Everyone Dean had tried to keep safe, everyone Dean had ever cared about was gone.

Gone, because some freaky eyed demon decided it had been a good idea to visit his baby brother when he was only six months old to drip demon blood into his mouth. Gone, because his mother had made a deal with the same son of a bitch demon who had destroyed all of their lives and had set their own destinies into motion because Mary couldn't live with John dead.

Hmm, it was kind of ironic actually now that Dean thought about it. Their family was full of people who sacrificed themselves for the other members of their family. It was no wonder Dean was the way he was. It seemed like it was genetic trait to sacrifice yourself after all.

Mary had made a deal to save John; John had made a deal to save Dean; and Dean, well, there was no way in hell he was living with his brother _dead_, so he had made a deal to save Sam.

Now all that was left was for Sam to make a deal to save Dean. But, as long as Dean had any breath left in him, there was no way he would ever allow his brother to sacrifice himself for Dean.

But Dean didn't have to worry about Sam making a deal for him, because the kid had had plenty of opportunities to make a deal to save Dean, but instead, he had left Dean to rot and had gone to find normal with a girl and a dog.

Dean felt both relieved and disappointed by that revelation. Although he was glad Sam hadn't sacrificed himself for Dean, it still felt like abandonment when his little brother had just walked away and left Dean to his fate.

After everything Dean had done for his family, for _Sam_, you would think he would show just a little bit of gratitude; you would think he would have done a little bit more other than to give up and settle down into his normal, apple pie life.

Before the familiar feelings of hurt, betrayal and bitterness could swallow him up whenever Dean thought about his time in Purgatory and his little brother's supposedly perfect "normal" life while Dean fought every single day just to stay alive, Dean recalled the unusual and suggestive comments Gabriel had hinted at while the brothers had been stuck in his world, that maybe Sam hadn't been living a perfect normal life like Dean had thought.

Back then, after the brothers had escaped the alternate world, Dean had vowed to get to the bottom of Gabriel's cryptic words, but so far Dean hadn't even thought too much about it, let alone figured out a way he could bring it up without causing more hurt for the siblings.

Besides, Dean had forgiven Sam for all of his past mistakes – Purgatory included – so whatever secrets Sam may be hiding about that time really shouldn't matter to Dean.

Except … if Sam had gotten hurt or had done something incredibly stupid, then Dean wanted to know about it so he knew who he had to hunt down and teach them the oldest brother's number one rule about why they should never mess with Dean Winchester's little brother.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Just as Sam was about to invite his older brother in, images of that time with the Alpha Vampire and other vampires – the main instigators in his six month captivity – invaded his mind with such force and ferocity that Sam couldn't help the gasp that escaped him as it all became too much for him to bare on top of all of his other issues concerning Lucifer.

Too many emotions bombarded him at once; pain, misery, desperation, hopelessness, terror, devastation, apathy and finally a sick kind of numb acceptance. Everything he had fought so very hard to forget, to repress, to bury it so deep that it would never see the light of day again, surged to the surface with a vengeance and violence that it took the youngest Winchester's breath away.

Damn Gabriel and the stupid deal Sam had made in an effort to save his older brother from having to pay for _his_ mistakes. It was because of Gabriel that all of these horrendous memories were being brought back to the surface, to see the light of day once more.

The last time Sam had had all of these memories circulating throughout his mind, it had been enough to send Sam into a padded cell, restrained in a strait jacket, locked away where he could do no harm to anyone else or himself.

Sam fought these raw emotions, determined not to let them overwhelm him once more … at least, not yet.

The last time this happened, he'd been all alone. No Bobby. No Dean. He'd been alone and had given into his emotions, buried himself so deep that even Amelia – a trained professional – had trouble getting through to him.

But Dean was back now. He wasn't alone anymore and he prayed for the strength to be able to tell Dean the truth before he cracked and succumbed to these emotions once again, becoming broken beyond all repair.

There was too much shame, too much humiliation, too much disgust, too many damn unresolved emotions that was almost overwhelming and consuming the younger hunter whole. He felt like he was drowning right where he sat with no life boat or life preserver in sight to help him before he sunk beneath his overbearing guilt, shame and remorse.

Sam choked back on the bile that was rushing up within him – wanting to purge every emotion, every memory of that terrible year without his older brother by his side, that he could – the choking and gasping reverberating throughout his body as Sam felt an almighty _rip_, the sound of his skin tearing open, reminding him of when teeth had sunken into his skin, ripping his skin apart, feeling the blood dripping from the open wounds, as monsters relished in the agonized screams that had been involuntarily drawn from the youngest Winchester.

Sam cursed loudly, tears of agony gathering within the corners of his eyes, knowing that the whip marks upon his back were beginning to tear open and become open wounds, blood dripping down his back as the pain radiated throughout the whole length of his body.

Ah, fuck that hurt!

Sam bit down upon his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep his back as still as possible as he rode out the pain in his pain.

The only good thing about this searing, almost unbearable pain, was that it had distracted Sam enough to keep him from drowning in his memories and emotions.

Now that Sam had something else to focus on, he felt confident that he would be able to tell Dean when he needed to before everything became too much and the youngest Winchester closed in on himself once again, being forced to deal with emotions and memories and his guilt all over again.

The last time Sam had to deal with this … after his escape from the vampires – it had almost driven Sam insane. It _had_ driven Sam into a psychiatric hospital, where it had taken months to, not only get clean from the drugs he had been given, but also from the feelings of shame and guilt at what he'd had to do and what had been done to him all so he could get his beloved older brother out of Purgatory.

But it had all been for nothing. Sam had suffered at the hands of those vampires for six months. And six months after Sam had lost Dean, he'd been no closer to getting his brother back; and Sam had feared that he would never see his big brother again.

He hadn't known if the deal still stood. Sam had held up his end of the deal, but the Alpha Vampire had yet to follow through with his end of the deal and produce one big brother. He had yet to produce Dean Winchester, and now … after everything that had happened, Sam feared he had lost the only hope he'd had to get his brother free.

That, as well as the self-loathing feelings of disgust, shame and humiliation had been the last straw for Sam, and that's why he'd ended up at the psych hospital for the next three months until he'd received the phone call from his brother. And then everything else vanished after that. Dean was alive, he was back and nothing else mattered except to get to his brother as soon as he could.

It wasn't until later that Sam learned what had really gone wrong with the deal he'd made with the Alpha Vampire and who had been the real mastermind behind Sam's six month captivity, their desire to humiliate, torture and _break_ the youngest Winchester because of an insane amount of jealousy that Dean had cared more for his little brother than for _him_.

Benny, the rouge vampire, had been intrigued, enamoured and impressed by Sam's older brother, so much so that it hadn't taken Benny long to develop _feelings_ for Dean, which he'd known Dean would never return, so he had decided to take it out on Dean Winchester's little brother because _anyone_ who Dean loved more than him was seen as a threat and someone to dispose of, to weaken, to completely destroy.

But Sam would _never_ reveal that to Dean. He wouldn't let Dean know that the person Dean had trusted most with his life had been the mastermind behind his little brother's captivity and cruel mind games, followed by the horrendous torture sessions that still had Sam waking up from nightmares to this day.

Another ripple of pain across his back had Sam's thoughts focused on the present once more and Sam couldn't help the oath that escaped him.

"Fucking son of a bitch!" Sam gasped, hoping for a cool, manly growl like his older brother would do, but instead Sam's voice shook and it came out more like a sob than anything else.

Sam was only just barely managing to hold himself together, to keep his rising fear, pain and panic in check so as not to freak out his big brother, but when the next whip wound opened with the same violence as the first one had, Sam lost all of his composure and screamed out for his brother in pain, desperation and fear.

"DEAN!"

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_.

I apologize in advance to anyone who is a Benny fan. He will not be displayed in a favourable light in this story.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

I struggled with this chapter so much that I must have rewritten it about four times, but this is as good as it's going to get. Also, a couple of steps closer to the big reveal. During the first draft of this chapter, I was going to end it with a big reveal about Purgatory, but it felt way too rushed … so, sorry, but have to keep you all hanging just a wee bit longer.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The slight gasp from his brother had Dean's head snapping up, being brought back to the present with a jolt. The distress and pain that now lined his little brother's features, had Dean's big brother instincts immediately flaring back to life, all of his other emotional crap forgotten as Dean's eyes automatically swept Sam's room for threats – already knowing there was no one there – years of instinct and habit taking control, wanting nothing more than to erase his younger brother's pain.

Sam muttered an oath – which sounded suspiciously like a sob – but it was when Dean saw the tears glistening within large hazel eyes, that had Dean automatically moving before he was even consciously aware of it, desperately wanting to get to his brother, no longer able to just sit idly by and do nothing while his baby brother was in this much pain and emotional distress.

Dean froze momentarily when Sam screamed out for him in such anguish, despair and grief, that it caused Dean's panic levels to kick up another couple of notches.

Sam never screamed for Dean like that. Not unless he was in serious life or death trouble. Or in some intense, unmanageable pain. Dean never liked either of those options because his kid should never be in that much pain or that terrified to ever produce a scream like that.

As soon as Sam's body swayed erratically, Sam's eyes rolling into the back of his head, his body tilting forward, slipping off the bed, Dean was moving again, with purpose, determined to catch his brother before Sam face planted onto the floor.

"Whoa, easy there champ, I've got you." Dean offered in a soft, soothing voice, grunting a little as he took his brother's near dead weight, near unconscious body, half standing, half crouching in an awkward position as he tried to maintain his own balance so the both of them didn't end up on the floor.

"D-Dean?" his semi-conscious brother moaned, sounding completely out of it, like he didn't know where he was or who was with him, which only increased Dean's growing alarm.

"Yeah kiddo, I'm right here," Dean soothed, ruffling the top of Sam's head softly, affectionately, much like he would have done when Sam was a kid, hoping that the physical contact would keep his brother both calm and grounded in the present.

"De'n …" Sam half-pleaded, half-sobbed. "Hurts De'n, please … make it stop." Large glassy, wet hazel eyes implored Dean, his bottom lip wobbling violently, looking so lost and vulnerable that he reminded Dean of a six-year old Sammy who had scrapped his knee and wanted Dean to fix it.

Dean felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of his little brother looking up at him as if Dean had the answers to everything and could protect his hurting brother from whatever was ailing him now.

Dean had never been able to refuse Sam when he had looked up at Dean like that and now – all of these years later – it was no different. Dean's expression set in determination, clenching his jaw tightly in barely concealed anger, having an overwhelming urge to hunt down and hurt the son of a bitch who had caused his brother such distress and confusion.

Unfortunately, Dean wasn't entirely sure what was going with his brother right now. It could be as simple as the left-over images of his Hell nightmares which was causing Sam to act so disorientated, vulnerable and scared. Or it could be something else.

What exactly that something else could be, Dean didn't know. But what he did know was that Winchesters had lousy luck. And considering that the brothers had had a relatively normal – well, normal for the Winchester siblings – and uneventful run of things for the past three weeks, Dean had a sinking suspicion that their luck would be running out and Dean would be dealing with the something else which was wrong with his brother. But Dean had no idea of what that was or could be or how he could fix it for his brother, which was causing the oldest Winchester brother to freak out a bit.

Because if he didn't know what was wrong with Sam, then how the hell did he go about _fixing_ it?

_Stop it_! Dean admonished himself, cutting off the panicked thoughts and feelings that were surging within him because he felt so damn helpless. _Taking care of Sammy is what you do. So, take a deep breath, calm the fuck down and __**do**__ your damn job_!

The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Dad's voice, but Dean didn't care because those words were exactly what Dean needed to hear to quickly pull himself together, determined to be there for his brother just like he always had been and just like he always would be.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Dean repositioned his hold upon Sam, placing his hands upon Sam's shoulders to keep him steady, plus it also provided Dean with the advantage of being able to look into his brother's expressive eyes which would keep Dean informed about his brother's emotional state.

It wasn't until Dean relaxed slightly now that he could read his brother's eyes as well as his subconscious tells, that Dean could feel the tremors going through his younger brother's body.

That knowledge, as well as the large teary eyes and wobbling bottom lip, warned Dean that Sam was a hell of a lot closer to breaking down and bawling more than Dean liked.

"Hey," Dean crouched down beside his brother, one hand upon Sam's shoulder to keep him steady while his other hand went to the back of Sam's neck to give a gentle, soothing squeeze, hoping to reassure and comfort his brother. "Hey, c'mon Sammy, none of that." Dean admonished, his voice low, without any heat, more of a friendly request than an actual order.

There were two things Dean absolutely hated to see upon his baby brother. Blood of any kind and tears.

Blood, although disconcerting and worrying in its own right was simple enough to fix once Dean was able to pinpoint where the blood was coming from. A few stitches later, along with lots of fluids and rest and Sam would be good as new in a few days.

Tears … well, that was a tad more difficult to fix because no matter what Dean tried, he couldn't find the source of the tears and erase them – not like he could blood. Still, that had never stopped Dean from trying to fix the tears, usually by demanding to know what had happened and who had caused the tears in the first place.

Once Dean had a name, he would immediately and swiftly hunt down this very stupid son of a bitch and explain in graphically gory detail what would happen if he ever heard that this asshat went after his brother and hurt him ever again.

Blood could be healed in a few days; tears, however, took a lot longer to overcome and heal from which was why Dean hated his brother's tears more than blood.

"Hey, c'mon Dude, eyes on me." Dean's grip upon the back of Sam's neck tightened slightly in warning when Sam's eyes slid away from Dean's. "There we go." Dean smiled encouragingly when Sam's unfocused eyes, focused back onto him once more.

"Deeaan …"

"Yeah, little brother, I'm right here. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Sam blinked uncomprehendingly and Dean feared that at any moment Sam was going to check out on him.

"Hey Dude, c'mon, look at me man. Tell me what's happening. Did you have a nightmare or –"

"H-hurts," Sam gasped through gritted teeth.

Dean frowned, not liking the sound of that one little bit. "What hurts Sammy?" he asked, hoping his brother would clarify that for him. "Is it … maybe Hell memories?" he suggested tentatively, even as Sam shook his head in the negative.

"Not … H-Hell memories. Not th-this ti-me." Sam's lips twitched in an effort to smile reassuringly, but it was more of a grimace of pain than anything else. "G-give me a min-minute," Sam stuttered, his voice stronger and surer. "P-pain will go a-way soon."

Dean nodded, even though he didn't really understand what Sam was talking about. The main thing was that Sam was conscious, responsive and he was talking. Dean would figure out the rest when Sam was more stable, more alert.

For now, Dean's grip upon Sam's neck gentled into a more soothing and supportive hold, allowing his brother the time he needed because honestly Sam looked absolutely terrible.

His complexion was pale, a sheen of sweat upon his brow, but at least Sam's eyes appeared more focused than they had been before which alleviated some of Dean's concerns.

Dean would try and be patient for now because his brother seemed to be improving, but if he didn't get some straight answers soon, there would be hell to pay.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Sam knew the amount of control that it was taking for Dean to just sit there and be supportive as Sam concentrated on taking small, shallow breaths so as not to set off another bout of cascading pain that travelled throughout his body.

"Th-thanks De'n," Sam said in gratitude and appreciation, the small nod of acknowledgement from Dean making Sam more determined to get his pain and emotions under control.

The ripping of the second whip mark had been bad; more powerful and intense than the first one which was still affecting him at this very moment. Sam feared that if he didn't come clean to Dean about Purgatory soon, then the ripping of each whip mark was only going to get worse and more intense.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Dean glancing at him in concern, the unspoken fear and worry for his little brother evident within Dean's deep green eyes, the worry-lines that had become prominent and pronounced in Sam's youth was not becoming a permanent part upon his older brother's features, which caused the now familiar feeling of guilt to settle over the youngest Winchester.

He knew that it was because of him that Dean now had those worry-lines permanently etched upon his forehead and under his eyes. "Sorry," Sam whispered apologetically, hating that he was the one who was causing so much worry for his older brother who already had enough worry to deal with as it was without Sam adding more worry.

"It's okay kiddo," Dean pattered Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "Just take your time, okay?"

Sam nodded gratefully, the pain beginning to ease slightly as Sam inhaled a tad too deeply in relief and before he knew what was happening, he ended up doubled over in a coughing fit.

Deep racking coughs tore through his body, aggravating the pain radiating from his back as Sam hunched over trying to both protect his back and chest from further injury as well as hoping this new position would help to minimize the pain.

But it did neither. The more that Sam fought to breathe, the worse the coughing fit became which only intensified the pain on his back, Sam sobbing in between coughs, waiting for this new round of agony to leave him as he looked up at his big brother beseechingly.

"Easy Sammy, I've got you. Just breathe, okay?" Dean's strong, comforting, commanding voice echoed in Sam's ear.

Sam nodded in misery, tears falling from his eyes as he struggled to follow his brother's instructions.

"Hang on buddy, here, let me help you." Dean offered, gently tilting Sam's body forward.

Sam's eyes grew round with disbelief and horror when he finally caught on to what his brother was about to do. And before Sam could even think about objecting, Dean was giving Sam a couple of solid thumps upon his back to try and help ease Sam's coughing fit.

Excruciating red, hot agony immediately swept through Sam's body, instinctively recoiling from Dean, crying out in both anguish and objection as his body arched up out of Dean's hold.

"Noooo … Dee … don't …" Sam managed to get out before the pain intensified even more, causing Sam to curl up in a ball, trying to ride out this pain as best as he could.

Dean jumped to his feet and stood there in shocked confusion, momentarily stunned and dumbfounded by his brother's violent reaction to Dean thumping Sam on the back to help ease the coughing fit.

Dean couldn't help the panic that swelled within him now as Sam lay curled up on the opposite side of the bed – as far away from Dean as he could get without actually falling off of the bed – panting like a pregnant woman in labour, the sweat rolling off of Sam's brow as his body shuddered with violent tremors, which were all signs of the intense pain his little brother was in at the moment. All that was missing was the violent expelling of bodily fluids before Sam blacked out into unconsciousness.

Just what the fuck was happening here? Sam seemed to be getting better. His colour had been getting back to normal and his breathing was getting easier – before the coughing fit had struck him – but now Sam seemed worse off than when Dean had first entered Sam's room, prompted by Sam screaming out his name in both terror and pain.

"S-Sammy?" Hesitantly, Dean stepped forward, shock and confusion causing Dean's brain to short circuit temporarily as he stared down at his little brother writhing in pain, unsure of what he should do now.

Sam gasped, trying to take shallow breaths, looking up quickly when he heard the uncertain quality within his big brother's voice. And then Sam wished he hadn't looked up and met his brother's eyes because Sam could see the hurt, worry and guilt reflected within those beloved, familiar green eyes.

Sam tried to offer Dean a reassuring smile or some ironic comment about how, at least now he wasn't suffering from the coughing fit, but it was all Sam could do to _not_ give into the pain and start bawling like a little kid.

When Dean moved forward, intending to grab Sam, Sam immediately backed away and held up his own shaky hand, warning his big brother back for now because Sam honestly didn't know if he could handle being touched by anyone right now.

The pain was that intense that it was taking everything Sam had in him to not puke up his guts and not succumb to the welcoming darkness that was urging Sam into its embrace.

Sam saw a flash of hurt register in Dean's eyes at Sam's rejection before it was masked over by irritation and annoyance (which was the next level of Dean's worry and concern).

"Dude, what the hell?!" Dean demanded gruffly, impatiently, not liking to be caught off guard like this. He wanted to go to his brother, his hands twisting restlessly at his side, instinct urging Dean to grab hold of his brother and find out what the hell was wrong with him and why his helpful thump on the back had brought out this volatile reaction.

But Dean refrained from getting any closer, watching Sam closely out of anxious, worried eyes, not wanting to do anything else that would cause his little brother further harm.

"Sammy, you had better start talking soon man," Dean's threat sounded weak, even to Dean's own ears, his voice too fill of anxiousness and worry than actual anger.

Sam offered Dean a jerky, shaky nod before holding up his index finger, indicating to Dean to give him a few more minutes as he grit his teeth, keeping in the sobs of pain that wanted to be released, his whole body trembling, the pain coming in waves as Sam waited for that agony to diffuse a little before he could offer any kind of explanation to his anxiously pacing older brother.

If Sam tried to talk now, he feared he would break down in tears. And, no matter what happened next, Sam refused to break down and sob like a small, terrified child.

Dean clicked his jaw back in an effort to contain his rising frustration and impatience, eyes glued to his brother, watching for any more signs of distress from his brother, feeling absolutely helpless and useless, not knowing what to do to help ease his brother's suffering … especially since it was because of _him_ that Sam was now in pain.

What the hell?

All Dean had done was to give his brother a pat on the back to help Sam's coughing fit and then Sam had acted like he had been struck by lightning. Surely Dean couldn't have hit him that hard … could he?

Dean began to pace the length of his brother's bed, needing to get rid of this pent-up restlessness, not straying too far away from Sam in case he was needed as Dean unconsciously brushed his hands over the thighs of his jeans. And it was then that Dean realized that he had an unusual sticky substance on his hand.

Dean paused in his pacing to look down at his hand, blinking hard for several seconds before it registered what the substance was that was on his hand. It looked like … blood. But surely that was impossible. It wasn't coming from him, was it?

Briefly, Dean cast a cursory glance over himself, satisfied that the blood – if that's what this substance was – wasn't coming from him before his eyes automatically settled upon his younger brother.

Wait a minute, this was the hand Dean had used to thump Sam on the back. And if he now had blood on his hand, did that mean that it had come from Sam?

Dean's heart clenched at that disturbing thought, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Sam," Dean said, his voice more controlled and even than he thought it would be considering the situation.

"Hmm," Sam made a low sound of acknowledgement, the waves of intense agony beginning to ease as Sam was slowly began to stretch himself out, testing his breathing as he experimentally took a deep breath and breathed an inward sigh of relief when that certain action only caused mild pain compared to what it had been, when Dean's next words had Sam freezing on the spot.

"Why the hell is there _blood_ on my hand? Is this _your_ blood?"

Sam raised his eyes to his brother's deadly green eyes, feeling like deer caught in the car's headlights and he understood that there would be no avoiding this now.

It was time to tell his brother the truth.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean noticed the way Sam couldn't quite meet his own eyes and Dean knew that his suspicions had been correct. This was _Sam's_ blood on his hand, and Dean felt his frustration kick up another notch.

"Sam, you better tell me what the hell is going on and why I have _your_ blood on my hand." Dean's voice lowered into his protective older brother growl, his green eyes deadly serious as he pinned Sam with his gaze and Sam knew by that look that Sam wouldn't get away with anything other than the truth this time.

Sam wouldn't be able to brush his brother off with half-truths or flimsy excuses, because Dean would see right through them and Sam knew that the time for avoiding this issue or skimming over it, was over.

Sam let out a low, long sigh, wetting his lips with his tongue nervously as he lowered his eyes briefly before meeting his brother's intense gaze once more, trying to diffuse the tension a little by replying with a flippant answer to Dean's question.

"I … would you believe that I fell out of bed?" The shaky half-smile left Sam's lips when Dean's low growl warned Sam that he was through with playing games.

"Yeah, okay," Sam relented, sighing in defeat. "I'll tell you, but … I really don't think you'll believe me."

"Tough. Tell me." Dean ordered in his no more nonsense tone.

"The simple answer to why you have my blood on your hand is … Gabriel." Sam declared softly, watching his big brother's reaction closely.

Dean's tense posture stiffened more as he ran a calculating eye over his brother's expression, checking for inconstancies, a twitching of the lips, crinkling of the eyes or any subtle movement which would clue Dean into Sam messing with him. But Sam's expression remained devoid of any tells what so ever.

"Gabriel?" Dean questioned; eyebrows raised in warning for Sam not to lie to him right now.

"Yeah, Gabriel." Sam confirmed softly. "Well, at least, I think it's Gabriel."

"You _think_?" Dean demanded, his voice beginning to rise in disbelief and astonishment. "So, you don't know for sure that it's Gabriel, you just _think_ it is?"

Sam's own frustration rose in response to his older brother's rising emotions. "What exactly do you want me to say Dean? It's not like I'm skilled at wounds that magically appear upon your back and start bleeding." Sam retorted sharply. "So, yeah, I _think_ it's Gabriel's doing because the last time I had these wounds I was trapped in Gabriel's weirdo, nutso world."

"You … _what_? They magically appeared on your back?" Dean frowned, more perplexed and confused by his brother's admission. Gabriel had caused wounds to magically appear upon his baby brother's back, making them bleed? And exactly what type of injury were they dealing with here?

Man, Dean must be really off his game tonight because the first thing he should have done was to check his brother for injuries the instant he'd seen that blood on his hand.

Dean blew out an exasperated breath, frustrated with both himself and his brother's mysteriously bizarre explanation. Right now, he had more important things to worry about than _why_ this had happened; he had to figure out _what_ he was dealing with and then he would go from there.

"Where? Let me see," Dean commanded as he sat down upon his brother's bed and motioned Sam forward with his hand, trying to keep his rising frustration in check when he sensed his younger brother's hesitation and wariness beside him.

"C'mon Sammy, I'm not gonna bite you." Dean pattered the space beside him encouragingly, smirking at Sam to let him know that he wasn't angry at his brother, just frustrated with this whole situation.

Sam gave a short nod as he situated himself upon the side of his bed next to his brother. "It's on my back," Sam explained unnecessarily, turning slightly so that Dean could see the injury better.

"Can't see a thing in this freaking low light," Dean exclaimed gruffly, fumbling with the lamp switch upon Sam's bed-side table before he was able to switch it on.

Dean blinked in the sudden glare of the light, needing a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to his light. "Right little brother, now let's see what all of this fuss is all about." Dean began in a light, teasing manner, hoping to set his on edge brother to relax a little before he caught sight of the full extent of Sam's wounds upon his back and Dean felt his blood cool with dread and horror before it heated up again in a red, hot rage.

Sam jumped at the feel of gentle fingers upon his back, trying to keep still and silent as Dean probed at Sam's back, his touch punctured with violent oaths and promises of vengeance and blood which caused Sam's lips to twitch into a half-smile of affection at his big brother's words.

Only Dean could make Sam feel safe, protected and loved by using that low, deep voice which promised violence to come because someone had dared to hurt Dean Winchester's little brother.

"Holy shit Sammy, these are … I think some of these may need stitches." Dean announced after several moments as he applied pressure to the wounds in order to stop the bleeding.

But no matter how much pressure Dean applied, the bleeding wouldn't stop. Thankfully, blood wasn't gushing out so Dean had no fear that Sam would bleed to death or suffer any ill effect from blood loss. But, still, the blood was enough to cause Dean's protective heckles to rise.

"I don't think stitches will help Dean," Sam replied dryly, hoping to ease some of his older brother's tension. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be sorted soon."

"Sorted soon?" Dean exclaimed incredulously. "C'mon Sammy, it looks like Gabriel flayed you alive with a whip or something." Dean paused, considering that theory for a moment. Had Gabriel flayed his brother with a whip? But how the hell had he gotten through the wards and protection of the Bunker?

It should be impossible for anyone to penetrate these walls. But after everything Dean had seen and learned over the years, and the fact that Gabriel was an _archangel_, nothing was impossible. Doing something like this was mere child's play to what an archangel could really do if they unleased their full power.

"_Did_ Gabriel flay you with a whip? I swear, I'm going to hunt that psychotic son of a bitch down and deep fry me some archangel wings." Dean frowned, becoming furious all over again at the extent of injuries upon Sam's back. But, if Dean was being completely honest with himself, there was something … familiar about these wounds.

It was almost as if he had seen these exact same wounds upon Sam's back in another place or … Something Sam had said earlier was niggling at the back of Dean's mind, but before he could grasp it, Sam was gasping in pain when Dean's fingers hit a particular sensitive spot upon his back and Dean was offering up a soft apology, too distracted to hold onto that train of thought.

"What? No. Gabriel didn't flay me with a whip. I already told you. I got these from … wait, you don't recognize them?" Sam turned his head to glance back at his older brother, seeing nothing but confusion within those familiar green eyes.

"Recognize them? Should I?"

"Yeah. They're from that other world. You know, the one Gabriel created specifically for me. The world that you had to get to in order to rescue your stupidly, naïve little brother." Sam tried to shrug it off as no big deal, but Sam only sounded sad and pitiful instead of indifferent.

"Wait … what?" Dean paused in his ministrations of Sam's wounds as he suddenly understood why these particular wounds had looked so familiar. These were the same scars Sam had acquired in that weirdo-bizzaro world, caused by _that_ version's poor excuse of a father, John Winchester.

Dean clenched his jaw back in an effort to control his anger as the implications to those words became blindingly obvious. "Do you mean to tell me that you've had these wounds for the last _six months_? And you didn't think to tell me about them … why?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal Dean," Sam sighed in resignation.

"Right. This is not a big deal." Dean shot back sarcastically. "You have whip marks that were caused in an alternate _world_, which are now tearing your back to shreds, but no, you're right, it's no big deal."

"It wasn't this bad before Dean." Sam stated defensively, hating that tone in his brother's voice that implied Sam was an idiot who didn't know how to look after himself.

"Obviously," Dean snorted, rolling his eyes behind his brother's back. "I think you better start explaining now Sam."

It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to mouth off to Dean before he glimpsed a look at his brother's expression and thought better of it. It wasn't Dean's fault he was in this mess. It was his own damn fault and his brother deserved an explanation … an _honest_ explanation.

"Yeah, okay Dean. I'll tell you what I know." Sam conceded wearily. "I first noticed them when I woke up after we got back from that other world. But they were scars – like they had been in that world – and they disappeared as soon as I told you about the phone message. So, I didn't think too much about them."

Sam shrugged a little self-conscious now. "And with everything else that happened after that world and Gabriel, it didn't seem that important anymore. And to be perfectly honest," Sam blushed, scratching at his head in embarrassment now. "I forgot all about them."

Dean stared at his brother incredulously for a couple of seconds before he let out a sigh and nodded shortly, accepting his brother's excuse because they had been through a lot since then, but it still annoyed him that his brother hadn't even bothered to mention it.

"Okay then, disregarding the fact that you should have told me about them the second you noticed them on your back." Dean shot his brother a stern, reprimanding look before continuing. "If they disappeared, then what the hell is this all about?" Dean demanded, gesturing toward Sam's back.

"Umm … I think it may be Gabriel's subtle hint to remind me." Sam admitted, blushing even more now at his brother's reprimanding tone and at the things he had yet to tell him.

"Remind you of _what_?" Dean growled, slowly beginning to lose what little patience he had left, Sam's answers only confusing Dean even more.

"That it's time for me to reveal the other truth to you." Sam sighed tiredly, heavily, eyes lowering to his hands, knowing that the more they talked, the closer Dean got to learning the full truth about what had happened when Dean was stuck in Purgatory.

Dean blinked at Sam stupidly for a heartbeat, not comprehending a damn thing Sam was telling him. "What the hell does that _mean_?" Dean demanded in frustration his voice beginning to rise steadily.

Sam let out another weary, sad sigh, well aware that Dean had reached his limit of patience and if he didn't get some answers soon, then he was going to go nuclear.

Sam glanced at his brother worriedly, because if Dean was already exasperated and frustrated, then how the hell would his brother react when he found out the truth?

Sam was tempted not to say anything, but by the look upon his brother's face and the severity of the whip-scars being ripped open one by one, Sam knew that he had no choice but to plough ahead. He only hoped that Dean would remain calm long enough for Sam to be able to get everything out in the open.

"I don't know if you remember, but in that alternate world of Gabriel's, I made a deal with him for our freedom. He would return us to the real world and in exchange, I had to reveal two secrets that I had been keeping from you.

The first secret I had to reveal in the next twenty-four hours and the second one, I had six months grace." Sam paused briefly to regather his throughs before he continued.

"This, what's happening now with the scars being ripped open one by one, I think it's Gabriel's way of telling me that my time is up and I have to tell you the second secret that I've been withholding from you."

"Right. Of course. Now that sounds like the douchebag trickster that I love to hate." Dean threw his hands up in the air in frustration, everything becoming so blindingly clear now. And Dean could have kicked himself for not remembering that Sam had made a deal with the ex-trickster.

But, in all honesty, Dean had forgotten all about it when nothing had happened to either Winchester sibling and then with all of the other stuff that had happened with Amara and Lucifer … Dean had been more than a tad distracted than normal.

Plus, Dean had thought that maybe Sam had been confused about making a deal with Gabriel because he didn't think either Winchester had anything to offer the ex-trickster turned archangel.

Huh. Guess he was wrong about that.

And it seemed that he had been wrong about Sam not making a deal to save Dean's life because Sam _had_ made a deal. Granted, if it hadn't of been for Sam's recklessness and drunkenness, Dean wouldn't have needed saving in the first place. But the fact remained that Sam had made a deal to save him.

And while Dean should feel horrified, shocked and appalled at that thought, he couldn't help but also feel proud.

All of the resentment Dean had felt at Sam abandoning him while Dean had fought for his life in Purgatory, dissolved instantly, because by making that deal with Gabriel, Sam had proven to Dean that Sam needed Dean as much as Dean needed Sam.

At that sudden revelation, Dean felt lighter than he had in years, all of the jealously, resentment and bitterness Dean had harboured when Sam had admitted to leaving Dean and choosing a life of normal, dissipated.

And Dean could now honestly say that he truly forgave Sam for those past actions because Sam had put his life on the line and had chosen Dean when it had really mattered.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_.

I apologize in advance to anyone who is a Benny fan. He will not be displayed in a favourable light in this story.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

I have no knowledge of how to do spells or even anything mystical what so ever. Everything is all made up and may be a bit out there, but … this is a Supernatural story and anything is possible in their world.

So, buckle up all my lovely readers because the big Purgatory secret is about to revealed. This is my take on what happened to Sam in the year that Dean was in Purgatory.

**Special Thanks: **To **Pie Love Luci** for your kind review of the last chapter, especially since it was such a hard chapter for me to write.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"Yeah, now that you mention it, I do remember you saying something about a deal." Dean replied slowly, his frustration easing slightly, but still on high alert and still pissed off because after everything Sam had been through in the fucked-up horror world, Gabriel was still managing to fuck with his little brother. And Dean vowed to put a stop to it immediately.

But, like the good brother that he was, Dean pushed those emotions to the back of his mind for now. He'd have time to go after that devious son of a bitch later. For now, Dean's only concern was making sure Sammy was okay, both mentally and physically.

"So, the first secret was –"

"The phone message," Sam suppled, his voice low and subdued.

"And now?" Dean urged, his gaze and tone softening when he noticed his little brother's hesitancy.

"Now … I have to tell you about … Purgatory." Sam practically whispered, chewing upon his bottom lip nervously, swallowing convulsively, the pallor of his skin ashen, his fingers twitching at his side, and Dean most definitely wasn't a fan of the dark, haunted quality that had entered his kid brother's hazel eyes.

"Right." Dean let out a breath, placing a hand upon his brother's shoulder, being careful of the wounds upon Sam's back, hoping to ease his brother's sudden discomfort and nervousness.

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about the whole Purgatory thing. But if talking about Purgatory caused this type of reaction in his younger brother to the point where Dean could feel Sam shaking like a leaf beneath his hand, then Dean decided that he didn't need to know about it.

At least, not right this second.

Dean had now come to terms with that betrayal and bitterness. But if the time ever came when Sam ever got to a place where he was comfortable with talking about it, then Dean would listen.

But the fact that Sam looked as terrified at revealing this big secret as he had been when he told Dean he had to have a face to face with Lucifer, proved to Dean that Sam hadn't even dealt with whatever had happened, and he was in no way ready to tell Dean about it.

Even though Dean had a burning need to know exactly what had occurred when he'd been in Purgatory, because his little brother's tells were beginning to make him feel _really_ uncomfortable, Dean's big brother protective instincts over rode his curiosity, because he knew that Sam wasn't prepared emotionally to divulge that information.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean said softly, gently squeezing Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "You know what, to hell with whatever deal you made with that douchey angel. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to because I honestly don't care about any of that crap anymore.

When I told you I'd forgiven you for all of that shit with the apocalypse, I meant it. And it also means that I've forgiven you for everything else since then. I've wiped the slate clean Sammy."

"I know." Sam said, the relief and gratefulness easy to see within Sam's eyes, even though it did nothing to disperse the haunted quality within his younger brother's eyes, which caused Dean's protective instincts kicking into high gear.

"But I don't think it'll be as easy as that Dean." Sam lowered his eyes, clasping his hands together in his lap as a deep shudder tore through the length of his body. "If I don't tell you, Gabriel said …"

Sam met his brother's eyes once more, sitting up straighter in a show of determination and stubbornness. "I _have_ to tell you Dean. If I don't Gabriel will send you to your own nightmare alternate world and these wounds upon my back will only get worse and more intense." Sam's expression fell. "I'm sorry Dean, but I have to tell you."

As if to prove the youngest Winchester's point, Dean heard a ripping sound followed by his younger brother's expression contorting with both fear and pain, another scream of pure agony being ripped from his brother, causing Sam to go so white that Dean feared his brother would pass out.

Fear gripped at Dean's heart, knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent this from happening or to help his brother with the pain, except for just being there for Sam.

Tears began to roll down Sam's pale checks and Dean felt his own eyes grow wet in response to his younger brother's obvious pain and distress. "You're okay Sammy, it's all good. I'm right here with you, okay little brother? I'm right here."

Dean could feel himself babbling useless reassurances as he gripped one of his brother's hands tightly in his own hands, hoping that the sound of his voice and the feel of his touch could reach his brother and give him something to hold onto, maybe even offer him a little bit of comfort.

"Shit!" Dean broke off in surprise when Sam's body began to twitch spasmodically. Dean held Sam steady so Sam couldn't hurt himself, the helpless, panicked, terrified feeling coming over him as Sam's twitching body was eerily reminiscent of the time Dean had watched helpless as his brother's body convulsived, being stuck in the real world while Sam's essence had been transported into that hellish, weirdo, bizzaro world.

"Dee!" Sam sobbed, desperately clutching his big brother's shirt, trying to ground himself as the pain ricocheted throughout his entire body.

Sam's voice snapped Dean out of his panic induced paralysis. "I'm here Sammy, I'm right here." Dean promised. "I've got you little brother."

Instinctively, Dean wrapped one arm around his brother's trembling shoulders and brought Sam into his chest, trying to protect him from all harm, hoping that the feel of Dean's body could help to ease his brother's suffering, trying not to fall to pieces himself as he held his crippled, pain riddled younger brother in his arms, promising to find that _dick_ of an angel and put an end to his cruel, sadistic tricks and mind games once and for all.

This was over stepping the line and Dean vowed he would avenge his brother and follow through with the threat he had made to Gabriel when the two brothers had been stuck in that alternate world.

Nobody had the right to do this to Dean Winchester's little brother, not even an archangel doing the bidding of Heaven's work; and especially not an archangel who like nothing better than to screw with the Winchesters – especially Sammy – any chance he could get.

"It's okay Sammy, I've got you." Dean soothed, his voice shaking with both fury and remorse that his brother was the target – yet again – of the trickster's cruel mind games. How many more knocks could his brother take before he'd had enough and shattered? That was the thought that scared Dean the most. Sam was a tough, resilient son of a bitch, but even he had his limits, even he could concede defeat and decide to give up.

Back in Gabriel's concocted, fucked up world, Dean had come too damn close to losing Sam, by Sam's own hand. And Dean feared, with this latest round of emotional turmoil that the kid might snap and do something drastic.

Dean gritted his teeth together tightly, vowing that wouldn't be happening on his watch as he could do nothing but offer his brother whispered words of reassurance, reminding Sam that he wasn't alone. As long as Dean was alive, Sam would never be alone.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Finally, after what felt like a life time, the crippling pain began to ease and Sam slowly became aware of two things; he was being cradled in his big brother's arms and he had made a massive wet patch upon his brother's shirt, no doubt filled with both tears and snot alike.

Sam blushed, deeply mortified and embarrassed now because he had promised himself that he wouldn't break down in front of his brother. But now, here he was, held in his older brother's arms, Dean's strong, calm, low voice resounding in his ears, while he wept like a damn hormonal girl, spraying his bodily fluids all over his brother's favourite t-shirt.

Man, how pathetic was that!

Sam was frustrated with himself; and angry, mortified and embarrassed and he just felt pathetically weak. He was supposed to be a Winchester. And Winchester's didn't shed tears unless they were in mortal danger or other members of your family were about to die.

A low growl of annoyance and self-disgust erupted from Sam as he practically propelled himself away, quickly disentangling himself from Dean's hold.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled in response to his brother's questioning, curious, concerned look. "I think I ruined your shirt." Sam glanced away from Dean's probing eyes, his checks flaming red in humiliation now as he discreetly brushed a hand over his face to get rid of any existing evidence that he had been bawling like a baby and behaving like an over emotional chick.

"It's okay. There's nothing to be sorry for." Dean replied easily, not even giving his shirt a glance, keeping his eyes trained upon his brother's face and watching for any subtle body language that the kid might give off.

The intensity of pain that had racked through his younger brother's body only moments ago, seemed to be more manageable now. The pain lines hadn't entirely left his brother's features, but they had eased somewhat, making way for new emotions like embarrassment and shame.

Dean smiled gently, fondly, as his younger brother fiddled with his own hands, shifting away from Dean a little, the blush upon the kid's face deepening as he lowered his eyes to periodically glance up at his brother's shirt, looking extremely awkward and uncomfortable now.

"Don't worry about it kid, it's just a shirt." Dean said gently, his own panic dialling down a notch now that he knew Sam was no longer in crippling, excruciating agony.

Sam jumped at the sound of Dean's voice, looking more guilty and embarrassed because he had been caught out doing something that he had never wanted his big brother to witness.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at his little brother's antics, this whole routine reminding him of when Sam had been in trouble as a kid and hadn't wanted Dean to know about it.

"It's fine Sam," Dean assured his sibling, giving Sam another few moments to regather himself before he touched Sam briefly upon his shoulder to get Sam's attention, asking the one question that he wanted a straight answer to. No messing around here; no bullshit or flimsy, half-assed non-answers to this question. No, this time Dean expected nothing more than the truth.

"Are you okay kiddo?" Dean's eyes automatically scanned his little brother's body and cursed under his breath when he noticed fresh blood tracks falling down his brother's back. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No." Sam replied honestly. "Besides, it's not as if a hospital can help with magically induced whip wounds which were caused in an alternate reality, right?" Sam managed a weak grin, trying to lighten the tension, like his big brother would have done if the roles had been reversed.

"Right," Dean nodded more serious and subdued than usual and without his usual snark or sarcastic comments.

Sam's expression softened. "Don't worry Dean, I'll be fine soon, okay?"

Dean blinked, seeming to come out of his slight funk, straightening up, the smirk and swagger Sam knew so well reappeared and Sam felt himself relax a little.

"Yeah, you will be fine once I find Gabriel and give him a taste of his own medicine." Dean agreed, voice low and dark and full of righteous big brother fury.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Sam snorted sarcastically, knowing from first-hand experience how hard it was to track down that ex-trickster, ex-archangel of the Lord as memories of reliving over a hundred Tuesdays entered the youngest Winchester's mind and he felt his throat clog up with emotion, remembering every death of his beloved big brother he had experienced at the hands of that mischievous asshole.

Back then, he'd wanted to teach Sam a lesson; how to live without his older brother because Dean's deal with the crossroads demon would be due soon, Dean's soul being dragged down into the pit, while Sam had to try and find a way to carry on without his big brother.

Sam hadn't accepted it then, had hunted Gabriel down until he'd brought Dean back to life. He was determined and so sure that he could save Dean, that he would save Dean from his fate of going to Hell.

But Sam had been wrong. Dean had gone to Hell and Sam had fallen. Lost without his brother, Sam had allowed evil to enter his live, had allowed it to come in between the two brothers when Dean had been brought back from Hell and he had allowed it to corrupt him, almost to the point of no return.

The next time Gabriel had appeared in the Winchester's lives was when he trapped the two of them in TV Land, trying to teach the siblings another lesson as the two brothers had to play the part of each tv character they found themselves in if they were to escape that world.

Gabriel had wanted them to play their roles; to say "yes" to Lucifer and Michael and allow the two archangels to use their meatsuits to set half of the world on fire as the two brothers fought a battle to the death.

The two mortal brothers had wanted nothing to do with that plan. The thought that either one of them could hurt the other one was ludicrous and crazy because their whole lives had been doing the opposite of that; of protecting each other, saving each other and being there for each other no matter what.

Sam had almost ruined that when he'd had to say "yes" to Lucifer so they could lock the Devil back in his cage. Sam had been cocky and so sure he could win against the King of Lies just long enough for Sam to jump into the pit and be locked in the cage for all eternity.

But Sam hadn't been that strong. He hadn't been able to beat Lucifer in a one on one match, battle of wills. He had almost let the damn Devil beat his older brother to death … but that had been the incentive Sam had needed to do the impossible; to take control and jump into the pit with Lucifer on board, as well as taking Michael and their half-brother Adam with him when Michael tried to stop Sam from jumping into the pit.

Sam shook his head at those depressing thoughts, knowing that the apocalypse debacle had been something that the brothers could never have avoided because the angels and demons had been manipulating and priming the two of them since before they had even been born.

It was inevitable.

Sam and Dean were always going to be vessels for Lucifer and Michael. They were always going to be split apart and made to turn on each other. And they were always going to say "yes" and allow the two warring archangel brothers to duke it out in a last fight, to prove their worth and to determine who had been right and who had been wrong.

But the Winchesters had refused that destiny, they hadn't allowed themselves to remain puppets, to be dictated to or told what they could or couldn't do.

The two brothers had won. They had chosen their own path and had won; despite being told that they had been nothing but mere pawns their entire lives.

Sam could put most of that crap behind him. Had, in fact, put most of it behind him because he understood that most of it had been out of their hands and it would always have happened that way no matter what they did to try and change it.

What he was having trouble with were his own actions toward his own brother and how he had allowed the evil to manifest within him which had nearly torn the brothers apart.

Still, Sam was better than he had been six months ago. He was better once he'd learned that Dean hadn't sent that message, had never thought Sam was a monster or was a lost cause without any chance of redemption or that Dean had never wanted to kill him.

And Sam was trying to forgive himself for that whole mess, he was. It was just hard, because after everything, after how scared he had been when he first developed those damn psychic visions that had connected him to either the yellow-eyed demon or to kids like him; to think that he had succumbed, after all of that. He had failed himself and he had allowed himself to be manipulated by a demon and had eventually choosen _her_ over his own flesh and blood brother.

It was … it made Sam sad to think of the naïve, kind-hearted, sensitive boy that he had been before Jessica's death, to become the cold-hearted, malicious, traitorous brother that he had eventually turned into at the end.

But Sam _was_ trying to forgive himself, just like he'd promised his brother he would six months ago.

Throughout their encounters with the trickster-archangel-Gabriel, he had interfered in the brothers lives in order to teach them a lesson and not just to screw them over like every other angel had seemed to want to do.

And Sam knew that this time was no different. In his own fucked up way, he was only trying to help, Sam knew that. But he wished that Gabriel's plans didn't have to involve so much pain or having to play embarrassing roles or having to divulge secrets which the youngest Winchester had buried so deep for a reason.

This secret he had to reveal to Dean, have very nearly _destroyed_ him the last time he had tried to deal with it. Sam was not looking forward to dredging it all back up again.

But Sam knew he didn't have a choice. He had to do this. He had to tell Dean. He had to deal with it or else … or else he would lose his big brother forever.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean rested his hand upon his brother's knee, letting Sam know he was there as he patiently waited for his younger brother to speak.

Even though Dean had forgiven Sam and no longer needed an explanation on his brother's behaviour during that time, it was obvious to the oldest Winchester sibling that the only reason these whip-scars were tearing open and bleeding was to guarantee his cooperation.

Gabriel knew how susceptible and easily manipulated Dean was when his brother's safety was on the line. He knew that even though Dean could be pig-headed and stubborn when the occasion called for it, Dean would easily submit to whatever the bad guy wanted if Sammy's safety and well-being was on the line.

These physical and visual marks upon Sam's back would be Gabriel's guarantee that he would have Dean's undivided attention and that Dean would do whatever it took not to invoke more pain upon his younger brother … even if that meant listening to Sam's big secret of when Dean had been in Purgatory.

It was either listen to Sam spill his guts or watch his baby brother wither in excruciating agony; Dean would take Sam spilling his guts and it developing into serious chick-flick territory any day over watching his little brother in pain.

God damn that manipulating son of a bitch who was always one step ahead of them!

And it made a lot more sense now why Sam hadn't been on board with the idea of summoning Gabriel to them and asking him about Amara rather than risk a confrontation with the damn Devil.

Obviously, Sam's refusal to even consider Gabriel, was to do with the deal Sam had made with that pompous ass. Just like the deal Dean had made with the crossroads demon to bring Sam back to life had stipulations and rules to ensure Dean's cooperation – like, if Dean tried to get out of the deal, Sam would die, for example – this deal must have had stipulations that would ensure Sam's complete obedience, like something happening to Dean if Sam didn't obey and follow the rules.

Dean hated that these bastards knew them so well that they would use the other brother against them. But what he hated even more, was the misery and terror he could see on his younger brother's face. He looked so young, so vulnerable, so unsure that all Dean wanted was to wrap him up in his arms and protect him from any and all threats.

But as Dean couldn't exactly hunt down this asshat and feed him his lungs, the next best thing he could do for his brother was to reassure him, calm him down and remind him that Sam wasn't alone in this.

"Don't worry Sammy, whatever you tell me, it won't change anything." Dean declared, his voice confident and sure.

Sam looked up at Dean sharply, gauging his big brother's expression before a sad, wobbly smile graced his lips. "Thanks. But you may feel differently about that once you know the truth." Sam said, bitterness and fear in his tone now which caused Dean's concern to rise in reaction to his little brother's obvious distress.

"Sammy –" Dean wanted nothing more than to take that pitiful young, vulnerable look from his brother's face and to take the sadness from those expressive puppy-dog hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam murmured regretfully. "I never wanted to tell you like this. In fact, I never wanted you to know anything about this. But when I knew I had no choice but to tell you …" Sam met his brother's eyes briefly before letting out a humourless laugh. "I was going to get all of your favourite food; maybe let you relax with a couple of glasses of beer or whiskey before I _eased_ into telling you what I have to now."

Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother in disbelief. "Sammy, if you had done all of that, I would have been more suspicious than ever and definitely not relaxed."

"Yeah, I know. But I figured I would –"

"Get me drunk?" Dean laughed dryly. "C'mon Sammy, if you had wanted to seduce me all you had to do was ask, little brother."

"What?" Sam's eyes went round with surprise before his checks reddened with either embarrassment or disgust – Dean's couldn't tell which – before Sam slapped Dean on the shoulder. "Eww Dean, no. That's just … just no!"

Dean couldn't help but laugh before he ruffled Sam's hair playfully, grinning teasingly. "It's still too easy to embarrass you little brother."

"Jerk." Sam muttered under his breath.

"Right back at you … bitch." Dean returned, pleased to notice that his playful, teasing banter had managed to relax his brother just a little. "So, you wanted to wine and dine me, did you Sammy? Maybe you wanted to get me so drunk that I wouldn't remember your confession." Dean grinned; the teasing twinkle easy to see in his green eyes.

"What? No, I …" Sam frowned and shook his head sadly. "I guess it doesn't matter now. Those plans have gone out the window. I became distracted with Lucifer and learning who Amara really was and I lost track of the time. Now all I can do is to just blurt it out and hope like hell you don't hate me after you hear what I have to say."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyes lowered to his hands, trying to remain as calm as he could and not let the darkening emotions invade him. He had to remain as calm as possible for as long as he could.

Sam opened his mouth and was just as surprised as Dean was at the words he said. "I'm sorry Dean, but everything I told you was a lie. I never hit a dog, met a girl and settled down for normal. And I _did_ look for you Dean, of course I looked for you!"

Slowly Sam met his older brother's look of confusion and smiled nervously. "The truth is … there was never a dog. Amelia and I didn't live together or have any sort of personal relationship and she most definitely is not a veterinarian."

Dean blinked in surprise at those words because that's what had hurt the most; to find out that his brother had left him for a slice of normal living, just like he'd always wanted. But now … according to Sam's words, that had all been lies.

Huh.

Dean wasn't quite sure how he should feel about that as he looked at his brother expectantly, questioningly.

"Amelia and I had a … professional relationship. She's a psychiatrist. She was _my_ psychiatrist." Sam admitted in a soft voice, although Dean could hear shame and self-loathing in his brother's tone now.

"Okay." Dean breathed, taking a moment to digest his younger brother's words, more confused than ever about _why_ Sam had lied about settling down for normal in the first place.

So, his brother had needed some help in … adjusting after Dean had disappeared. There was no shame in that. Nor was it anything to be embarrassed about. Everybody needed help from time to time. It was all part of being human.

And while Dean would use alcohol to help him cope with things, Sam had always needed to _talk_. So, the fact that Sam had had to get help from a professional to help Sam deal with his big brother's sudden disappearance was nothing to get bent out of shape over. And it was most definitely nothing to lie about.

"So, you needed to talk to someone after I was … gone. There's no shame in that Sammy, nor is it anything to be embarrassed about." Dean said, not flinching when Sam searched his eyes for the truth.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle dryly at his brother's carefully phrased comment. "If that's all there was to this, then you're right Dean. There is no shame in seeking profession help when you need it.

But I didn't seek her out. Nine months after you left, I had – what they called – a psychotic break. They had to lock me up in a padded cell, straight jacket and all to keep me from harming myself. Except –" Sam licked his dry lips nervously. "I wasn't really trying to harm myself. I was just trying to get rid of it so that it couldn't be used against me anymore.

I guess I can see _why_ they _thought_ I was harming myself. But they don't know the things we do. And all I was trying to do was to get rid of it. Granted, I probably shouldn't have tried to do it in a public place but –"

"Sam."

Dean's soft, commanding tone halted Sam in his tracks and he felt the instant heat in his checks as he realized that he had been babbling, something Sam was prone to do when he was extremely nervous or agitated. And, right at this moment, Sam was both extremely nervous and agitated.

"Sorry," Sam muttered.

"'S'okay Sammy," Dean said softly, gently squeezing his brother's knee in moral support, swallowing over the lump in his throat at the tears he could see gathering in the corners of his little brother's eyes, the amount of terror, horror, guilt and shock within Sam's tone, unnerved Dean a little, but he was determined to be there for Sam no matter what.

He had promised Sam that whatever he said, it wouldn't change anything between them and Dean vowed to keep that promise. Besides, even though what his brother had revealed so far might be considered _bad_ in most people's books, Dean knew that things could get so much worse in their world.

Dean wasn't going to lie. It was disconcerting to hear his brother talk about harming himself and being locked up in a padded cell for his own protection. But none of that was enough to explain _why_ Sam had lied and why he had kept this secret for so long.

Sam's lips trembled violently in an effort to offer his brother a smile of acknowledgement and reassurance as Sam fought to regather his emotions, calm himself down and explain this as professionally and calmly as he could.

"Right, where was I?"

"Padded cell, straight jacket, psychotic break." Dean supplied helpfully, no condemnation or sarcasm in his voice; wooden, calculated with just a touch of concern and worry that Dean now felt.

"Yeah, thanks Dean. I was placed in lockdown in the psych ward, with a suicide watch for forty-eight hours." Sam paused thoughtfully. "I guess with the amount of blood there was and _where_ I had to cut to get rid of that … fucking magical brand … I can now understand why they thought I was trying to harm myself. But I promise you Dean, I swear on my own life, that my intention was never to kill myself."

Dean swallowed hard, scared by his brother's words, but he also knew that Sam was telling the truth. No matter what the professionals had said or what other people thought, Sam had never tried to kill himself.

"Okay Sammy, I believe you." Dean replied, his tone rough and fill of emotion, not able to hide his fear as well as he usually did as Sam looked at him sharply, scrutinizing every inch of Dean's face before he nodded, satisfied with what he saw.

"After forty-eight hours, the hospital was supposed to release me, but they ended up committing me to a _real_ psychiatric hospital with all of the worst and violent, crazy people you can imagine."

Sam shivered violently as he thought back to that time, knowing that he was completely sane and lucid, but there had always been doubts in the back of his mind suggesting that maybe this was _exactly_ where Sam needed to be. That maybe, everything he had thought had happened, had never actually happened at all. That maybe Sam was just another crazy person who couldn't tell the difference between reality and fantasy.

"So, there I was, locked in a mental hospital, being feed drugs to "keep me calm" knowing that I had now lost any chance I'd ever had of getting you out of Purgatory." Sam continued bitterly; his voice so low that Dean had to strain to hear him. "And that's when I fell apart. That was when I truly began to doubt myself and my intentions. Maybe I _had_ tried to harm myself."

"Come again?" Dean interrupted, fear making his heart beat fast, beginning to feel panicked at his little brother's words. "What are you trying to say Sammy? Did you –" Dean swallowed hard in fear. "_Did_ you try to kill yourself?"

"What? No, Dean." Sam replied quietly, startled by his brother's accusations. "I didn't … I _told_ you that it wasn't a suicide attempt. But, being in that place, surrounded by all those … crazy people, being fed up on medication, I could feel my sanity start to slip away."

Sam paused, those memories washing over him for a moment before he brushed them away. "And then I met Amelia. And she was able to help me put myself back together. She helped me get off the drugs so I could think clearly again. She saved me Dean. She helped me to deal with why I had broken down in the first place, why I had the psychotic break which had landed me in a mental institution."

"Okay," Dean licked his lips, frowning as he tried to process his younger brother's confession. "So, you ended up in a hospital full of crazy people because professionals thought you were trying to harm yourself?" Dean asked, making sure he had gotten everything straight so far.

"That's right." Sam nodded.

"Sure, makes sense … I guess. But what I don't get is _why_ you ended up there? What lead other people to _think_ that you were trying to harm yourself? Why did you have a … psychotic break in the first place Sammy?"

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I was running scared Dean. I had just been released after months of …" Sam closed his eyes, battling against the terror, fear and shame that he'd felt, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice as he rethought his words and tried again.

"I … made a deal with a monster. And all I was trying to do was to remove the brand so they couldn't use it against me again; to try and forget everything I had done; to forget everything that was done to me. But most importantly, I wanted to forget how much I had failed you and how disappointed you would be if you ever returned and learned the truth." Sam admitted in a low, soft voice, shaking with emotion now instead of pain as he waited for his words to register in his older brother's mind and for his brother to erupt in anger once he realized what those words meant.

Dean's heart stopped cold in its tracks, almost forgetting to breathe as he looked down at his younger brother's bowed head. "You … you made a _deal_?" Dean repeated, wanting his brother to deny this, but felt his heart sink when Sam gave an affirmative nod.

"Yes, I made a deal." Sam reluctantly admitted, watching Dean out of wary eyes, knowing that Dean's infamous temper was going to make itself known very soon.

Dean closed his eyes, trying to reign in his anger, worry and frustration as he felt Sam stiffen anxiously beside him. Dean's immediate response was to reprimand his brother – _very loudly_ – about how making deals never worked for them, internally fuming because it became abundantly clear that his little brother had made a _very_ stupid decision and decided to make a God damned deal of some kind, with … well, Dean didn't know _who_ Sam had made a deal with … yet. Sam had only said that he had made a deal with a monster, but Dean vowed to find out exactly _who_ this monster was and rip his God damn lungs out!

Dean took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds until he could talk without his tone full of fury and anger, before he let his breath out slowly and locked a deadly serious gaze upon his younger brother's large, frightened eyes.

"Okay, you've got my attention. Now, how about you tell me what _really_ happened while I was in Purgatory. And I want to hear _everything_ Sam, do I make myself clear? Everything."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _**Unforgiving Antidote**_ and the third in this series which was never supposed to go beyond _**Unforgiven Remedy**_.

I apologize in advance to anyone who is a Benny fan. He will not be displayed in a favourable light in this story.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

This is my take on what happened to Sam in the year that Dean was in Purgatory.

**Special Thanks: **To **Pie Love Luci** for your kind review of the last chapter, and to everyone else who has taken an interest in this story. Your continued support and encouragement mean a lot.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Sam glanced at his older brother's face, noticing the clenched jaw, the narrowed eyes, the soft flaring of his nostrils, combined with the clenching of his hands and the look of growing concern, worry and seriousness within his brother's darkening shade of green eyes, clued Sam into the fact that his brother was pissed. And he was serious.

The tone of his voice, his facial expressions as well as the vein that was beginning to throb in his forehead when his brother got extremely worried or angry, not to mention his tense, ready to leap into action body language, were all indicators that Dean would not be leaving this room until he got the truth.

It was rare for Dean to get this serious and this worked up, to the point where he demanded answers and be damned with the consequences.

Dean had always wanted honesty from Sam – there was no denying that – especially where Sam's health and safety were concerned. But this level of seriousness, determination and stubbornness was rare because his anti-emotional older brother hated any strong emotions what so ever.

Dean had never been a fan of talking through his emotions or getting to the bottom of why he felt – apprehensive, worried, scared, frustrated – the way he did at that particular time … although, generally Sam knew _why_ his brother had expressed those deeper emotions because he had been watching and studying his big brother from a young age, so Sam didn't necessarily need an explanation as to why his brother had felt those deeper emotions at the time because he already knew why.

His older brother preferred to use sarcasm, humour, alcohol and women to diffuse any emotional turmoil that may be going on between the brothers, preferring to bottle it all down, act as if it didn't matter, acting as if everything was fine between them – even though they both knew that it wasn't – until it wasn't an issue anymore.

So, the fact that Dean was breaking all of his own rules on how he usually coped with heavy emotional discussions, wanting to talk about this now – at whatever ungodly hour of the morning it was – knowing that this conversation was likely going to be filled with a whole lot of heavy emotions that his older brother tended to avoid, proved to Sam just how pissed off and serious his big brother was.

Sam blew out a breath and lowered his eyes, no longer able to stand the intensity within his older brother's eyes.

"Sam." Dean growled out in warning, his patience being stretched to its limits the longer Sam refused to offer up any kind of explanation and remained silent.

"Yeah Dean, I know." Sam sighed sadly. "And I'll tell you. Everything I _can_ tell you." Sam met Dean's gaze steadily. "There are still things that I can't … I _won't_ tell you because … just like with the Hell memories, they bring up too much pain and if I dwell on them for too long … then I really _will_ end up harming myself."

"Sammy –" Dean gasped, stunned by his brother's words and the look within those large puppy-dog hazel eyes, causing Dean's concern to go through the roof because his brother should never look like this, or sound like this either.

Sam held up his hand to stop his brother's well-meaning but useless arguments, clearing his throat, quickly out-lining the rules he had set for his own safety and sanity as well as to protect his older brother. "What I _will_ tell you … well, you'll understand, even if you don't get a play by play description."

Dean opened his mouth to object, but changed his mind when he saw the firm, stubborn look Sam gave him, knowing this was one stipulation he wouldn't be compromised on.

"Okay Sammy," Dean reluctantly relented, hoping that his ready agreement would take away the darkening, haunted quality that had entered his younger brother's eyes.

But his quick agreement to Sam's stipulation didn't ease that look at all. If anything, it only increased the tension that was humming through the kid's body.

Although Dean had agreed not to press his younger brother too hard for details Sam wasn't willing to give or felt uncomfortable offering, that didn't mean that Dean wouldn't pursue this in the future if Dean felt that he needed to know something for the sake of Sam's health or to better help Dean look after him, then Dean was going to push him, whether Sam liked it or not.

But for now, Dean would abide by his little brother's rules, his own interest, intrigue and concern beginning to stir within him at some of the troubling, cryptic things his brother had said.

"Good." Sam nodded, pleased that he didn't have to fight Dean on that because now that meant Sam could avoid going into too much detail about the torture session and sexual depravities that he had endured on an almost daily basis toward the end of his captivity. It also meant that he could keep out Benny's involvement in this whole thing.

Even though Benny had been the main instigator in the emotional scars the youngest Winchester carried upon his soul – as well as other physical scars upon his body – Sam wanted to protect Dean as much as possible.

Sam knew his brother. And he knew that after Dean got over the shock of everything Sam had to tell him, that the older hunter would be consumed with unnecessary guilt. He would blame himself for everything that had happened to Sam because he hadn't been here to protect him like he should have been … even though it hadn't been within Dean's power to be by his brother's side because he was stuck in Purgatory.

The least that Sam could do, so that his older brother wouldn't be floundering in guilt, was to protect and preserve the friendship that Dean had acquired with the rouge vampire.

If Dean learned that Benny – a trusted friend – had had an active role in his little brother's torture and captivity for six months, then that would completely destroy Dean faster and more completely than anything Sam might have done or said.

Sam refused to let his big brother suffer with any more unfounded guilt. Especially since Sam had been the one to make the deal in the first place. He had been the one who had let his guard down. He had been the one who had trusted a monster – yet again – over his own inner instincts. He was the one who had fucked up here, not his brother. So, if Sam could ease the burden of guilt, he knew his brother would feel – even though Sam didn't blame him for any of this at all – then, that was what he was going to do.

Cautiously, Sam let the memories of that time in, trying to decide how best to explain it to Dean or even where to start. Sam closed his eyes against the painful memories that now invaded his mind, suddenly nervous and tongue-tied as he glanced over at his older brother helplessly.

"I don't … I don't know where to begin. I don't know how to tell you … I don't … Oh God Dean, I don't want to do this." Sam admitted on a whisper, feeling his bottom lip tremble, fighting the tears that threatened to fall as he began to spiral down into the start of a rare panic attack. "Dean …"

"Hey, it's okay kiddo," Dean immediately switched from pissed off, protective older brother to soothing and calming a panicked Sammy older brother, seeing the fear and terror reflected within those large hazel eyes, as he placed the palm of his hand onto the centre of Sam's chest in an age old gesture that meant to calm and soothe the youngest Winchester as well as to let Sam know that Dean was with him and that Dean would handle things from here on out.

"I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. Relax, and … just start at the beginning Sammy." Dean advised, smiling gently, confidently as some of the panic in his brother's eyes began to dissipate, trying to comply with his older brother's requests.

"I don't want you to ha-hate me." Sam wailed in such a low, mournful tone that Dean had a sudden urge to summon that damn mischievous, trickster-archangel right now, drawing blood or deep frying his angelic archangel wings in holy oil for ever putting his baby brother through any of this.

"Come on Sammy, no. I don't hate you. I could _never_ hate you, okay?" Dean assured his trembling brother, becoming more concerned at Sam's hesitancy and flat-out terror at having to tell Dean something that had happened years ago.

Dean had always thought that the two of them had an open and close relationship. He had always assumed that Sam knew he could tell Dean anything. And even if sometimes Dean might get mad or flip out at some of the things his brother revealed, he had always thought that Sam knew that was Dean's way of showing his unconditional support, concern and love for his kid.

But now, given the disagreements and misunderstandings that had come between them over the past few years, maybe Sam didn't know that Dean would always listen, would always be worried and concerned and would always forgive this kid no matter what he had done or what he might do in the future because Sam was Dean's little brother; Dean had practically raised him and there was no way in hell that Dean would ever abandon his brother or willingly walk away.

There had been times when Dean or Sam had walked out on the other, but they had always come back. There had always been an understanding between them that no matter how mad the other brother was, they would eventually come back together. And no matter how much the two of them may have fought in the past, Dean would drop everything and be by his brother's side in a heartbeat if Sam was ever in any trouble or needed Dean. Just like Dean knew Sam would do the same for him.

But now … maybe Sam really didn't know all of that anymore. Had Dean been that hard on him that Sam no longer felt comfortable telling Dean things?

Dean frowned, not liking that thought at all because as far as Dean was concerned, nothing had changed between the two of them. Dean knew that Sam would always have his back no matter what.

"Sammy, come on dude, what could be so bad that you can't tell your awesome big brother?" Dean smirked at Sam; eyebrows raised in a teasing fashion. "The same awesome big brother who became Alistair's bitch and tortured innocent souls in Hell. What could be worse than that little brother?"

Sam looked at Dean, startled that Dean would bring up Hell in such a flippant, casual manner before Sam shook his head and snorted bitterly. "I can think of lots of worse things than that. Becoming addicted to demon blood, releasing Lucifer from his cage and almost dooming mankind to damnation, for instance."

Dean gave Sam a measured look before he shrugged nonchalantly. "So, you almost brought about the end of all life as we know it. I actually _enjoyed_ torturing all of those innocent souls in Hell."

Sam raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you really going to play this game? Are we really going to compete with each other about who has made the most screw-ups?"

Dean shrugged again. "You started it little brother."

Sam closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to curb his rising frustration, knowing that Dean was only acting like this in order to calm Sam down and make him relax. And damn if it wasn't working!

"True." Sam conceded with a wryly grin. "But at least you didn't become a blood hoar for a bunch of vampires who became addicted to your blood." Sam said in the same teasing tone his older brother was using before he realized what he had said.

Sam quickly glanced at Dean, his heart speeding up nervously, counting down the seconds in his head before his words registered with his older brother.

"You … _what_?!" Dean gapped at his brother, flabbergasted for a few seconds before a cold fury began to consume him. "Did you say _vampires_? And how the hell did they become addicted to _your blood_?"

Sam winced at Dean's lethal tone of voice. "Yeah … I said vampires."

Dean glared hard at his brother. "Now is not the time to get cute little brother. You better start explaining yourself." He warned, and Sam could tell that his big brother had now reached the end of his patience.

"Yeah, okay." Sam said, his whole body language and posture deflating in defeat. "Maybe I should start at the beginning."

"That would be a good place to start." Dean replied sarcastically, removing his hand from his younger brother's chest, turning slightly so that he could have a full, clear view of his little brother's eyes and facial features.

Sam nodded as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, composing himself as much as he could, his tone and posture neutral, trying to distance himself from what he was about to reveal to Dean. Hopefully, by distancing himself like this he could complete this confession without embarrassing himself any further than what he already had tonight.

"You were gone." Sam began, remembering how bewildered and lost he had felt the instant his brother had disappeared. "Dick Roman had … exploded and when I looked again, both you and Castiel had vanished.

Then, before I could even blink or have a chance to process the fact that you had disappeared, Crowley had disappeared, taking Kevin with him. And for the first time in my life, I realized how completely alone I really was."

Sam chanced a glance at his older brother and could see the look of sympathy upon Dean's features. If anyone could understand what Sam had gone through, then it was Dean. Because Dean had also had to try and live a life without Sam when Sam had jumped into the cage with Lucifer.

"The next few days were a blur." Sam continued, his voice low and bland, without any emotion as he kept eye contact with his brother. "I refused to believe that you were dead … even though that's what every hunter would tell me when I went to them and asked for help. But I knew you weren't dead."

Sam coughed, blushing slightly when he saw Dean's eyes narrow at the mention of other hunters. "Before I sought out the hunters though, I was determined to find Crowley. Before he left … I got the feeling that Crowley knew more about what had happened to you than he was letting on.

But Crowley was smart. He wouldn't let any of his demons come out to play and the summoning spell I used to summon him did absolutely diddly squat."

"Bet that pissed you off," Dean commented, seeing right through his younger brother's outer shell of indifference and monotone voice to the simmering frustration within the younger man.

Crowley would have been the first son of a bitch Dean would have gone after if Sam had been the one who had disappeared without a trace. Dean wouldn't have left any stone unturned in his desire to get his brother back.

And that's what scared Dean. Now that he knew Sam hadn't settled for a life of normal, he was extremely anxious and nervous about what his brother might have done in order to get Dean back.

"Yep, I was extremely pissed." Sam agreed. "But that just made me even more determined to find him. I spent every spare minute I wasn't eating or sleeping running down leads, trying to track Crowley down.

I knew that if I found Crowley, not only would he have answers about where you and Cas had disappeared to, but I could also get Kevin back as well. For two months I hunted that slippery bastard." Sam's carefully crafted façade of indifference vanished as Sam's right hand clenched into a fist of its own accord, recalling how completely and utterly helpless he had felt … not to mention frustrated to an almost dangerous level.

Sam had wasted two months tracking Crowley and in all of that time, any demons Sam did happen to encounter either knew nothing or they deliberately refused to answer Sam's questions, no matter how much Sam tried to persuade them otherwise.

Sam had been completely out of control, his determination to find his brother and get answers overwhelmed all of his other instincts. He only ate, slept and showered because he had to, because he knew he needed to keep up his strength.

And with no Bobby to turn to or ever to run ideas off of, Sam became a shell of the man he had once been. He had felt dead inside, like a machine or a robot, running on automatic pilot. It felt like his very essence, his soul, had disappeared along with his brother. And if Sam had any chance or returning to the man he had been, then Sam knew he had to find his brother and as quickly as possible before the darkness that lurked inside of him, consumed him whole.

"But the demons I did eventually track down, they weren't talking or they didn't know anything." Sam glanced over at Dean in surprise when Dean laid his hand on top of Sam's clenched fist, his expression calm and understanding, even as he was wordlessly reminding Sam that he wasn't alone and to settle down.

Dean could understand exactly what Sam had gone through because that's how he had felt when Sam had been lost to him after he'd jumped into the pit. Dean had tried everything he could think of to get his brother out of the cage, but nothing had worked.

The difference between them, was that, unlike Sam, Dean had someone to lean on. He had Lisa and Ben. And on the days when he got so bad that Dean didn't know if he could carry on … he had Bobby. And Bobby had always managed to bring Dean back from the brink of self-destruction.

"I understand Sammy," Dean murmured, keeping his hand over Sam's shaking fist until he felt the trembling easing, the message Dean was trying to convey, understood when Sam offered Dean a shaky smile of gratitude and reassurance.

"I know you do Dean," Sam tipped his head in appreciation and acknowledgement, the simple gesture from his older brother that meant so much more than just calming or soothing the youngest Winchester. It also meant support, love, encouragement, understanding, reminding Sam that, for now at least, his brother was still here with him and wasn't going anywhere until he knew for certain his little brother would be okay.

Sam took a moment to steady and realign himself, pushing back his emotions, feeling shame at the things he had done to the few demons he had come across. It was as if another part of him had taken control, a darker part, a part that Sam hoped would never come to light again.

It was too reminiscent of how he had been when he'd betrayed his brother with Ruby and of when Sam had returned from Hell soulless.

That part of Sam always terrified him because when Sam was in that state of mind, he didn't care about anything as long as he got what he needed. He didn't care if he hurt anyone or even the repercussions his actions may cause to innocent people or others who would call themselves his friends.

All he cared about was getting results. And unfortunately, the fastest way to get any sort of results from non-talking demons was … torture.

Sam shuddered violently as memories of his various torture sessions with different demons infiltrated his mind. Sam didn't like the person he became when he was like that. He didn't like the cold, dispassionate, calculated manner in which he conducted things.

Because, how long would it be before the darkness within him truly took over and that was all Sam had left? His cold, unfeeling, mechanical, dark self, devoid of any emotions, uncaring of any consequences, doing whatever the hell he wanted and being able to justify his actions because that was what he needed to do in order to achieve his goals.

Sam didn't want to turn into the cold, dark part of him. He had always shoved that part of him down, not letting it see the light of day because it scared him so much. The things that he could do while in that mind frame … was absolutely horrific and terrifying, which was why Sam refused to acknowledge that part of himself.

It was only when Sam was in a truly desperate situation – or he had come back from Hell soulless – that side of him was released.

And now, with Dean gone and no one left to anchor him, Sam was ashamed to admit that he had fully embraced that side of him. He let it run his life for nearly three months because what the hell did it matter now? Dean was gone. Sam was alone. So, what the hell was so important about holding onto all of that morality and stupid emotions that would only get in the way of what he _had_ to do in order to find out exactly _where_ his older brother had vanished to.

Dean watched the kaleidoscope of emotions that flashed across his younger brother's features and felt his heart clench in both sympathy and fear for what his brother had been through when Dean had vanished without a trace.

Reading in between the lines of things that his brother hadn't said, Dean knew that his little brother had had to do things that went against that gentle nature of his. Torture, for instance.

Dean swallowed over the lump of emotion that had lodged in his throat, because he never wanted Sam to be anyone else other than who he was. Dean understood the necessity for the things Sam had done and might have done to the demons in order to get the information he needed, but that didn't mean that he was happy that his brother had had to go through that alone.

"Sammy, you did what you had to do." Dean's tone gentled, immediately absolving his little brother of everything he had done to those demons. "Besides, they were _demons_ dude, it's not as if they're exactly innocent you know."

"Yeah, I know that. But …" Sam raised his eyes to look Dean in the eyes and Dean almost sobbed at the gut-wrenching look of anguish, hurt and regret upon his baby brother's expression. "There were innocent people trapped inside those demons Dean. And I didn't even think about trying to save any of them before I gutted the demon down.

I didn't _care_ about those people trapped inside the demons. All I saw was a demon who had the information I needed and I would get it any way that I could."

Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder in a gesture of consolidatory, not knowing how to respond to that.

He hated the thought of his little brother ever having to tap into that potential of darkness that was in _all_ hunters. You didn't do the work of a hunter, day in and day out without the horror, the blood, the violence, the evil that they faced and the things they hunted, without it affecting you in some way.

You couldn't do this job correctly without the darkness and evil that you fought, eventually ebbed into your being. And if you weren't careful, if you didn't keep a constant vigil and reminded yourself about why you did what you did, then it would be too easy to let that darkness and evil corrupt you and eventually consume you.

Dean and Sam were lucky because they had each other to remind them of their humanity.

Over the years the brothers had built up a network of friends – both hunters and ordinary people who had stumbled into their world – who had also helped to keep the Winchester brothers level-headed, clear about their objective, without letting them go too far or letting that darkness and evil invade their lives too much.

But other hunters weren't as lucky as them. And they had fallen into that deep, dark chasm, their morals and beliefs becoming corrupted until they couldn't see anything but evil. It didn't matter if what they hunted wasn't evil at that time. The fact that they had the capability in them to turn evil was all that mattered.

Travis was one such hunter that immediately came to mind. He had been so sure that Jack would become a monster, was so terrified that Jack's unborn child would turn evil, that he had actually caused Jack to take that final step into becoming evil by threatening Jack's wife and unborn child.

Then, of course, there was Gordon Walker; who was obsessive and specialised in hunting vampires. Eventually that obsession carried over into Gordon trying to kill Sam because Sam had the potential to become evil. But because of his obsessive desire, in an ironic twist of fate, Gordon was turned into the monster he detested and hunted and was ultimately killed by the youngest Winchester.

These two hunters had been lost before Dean and Sam had ever met them. They had given into that darkness, had forgotten what it was like to make the hard, moral decisions that you to, both as a hunter and a decent person. And both of those men had perished because of it.

So, the fact that Sam might have had to delve – even a little bit – into that darkness in order to cripple, maim and torture, caused Dean's breath to catch in his throat, his heart speeding up in fear because Sam could have easily been swallowed up by that. Dean could have come back to a cold, unfeeling little brother who had been engulfed by his own inner darkness.

Dean thanked whoever may be listening that his brother hadn't fallen into that void of darkness, that Sam had the strength to not give in completely because it would have broken Dean's heart to have Sam become that cold, unfeeling bastard that he had been when he'd been soulless.

"I'm sorry you had to do that Sam, I am." Dean began, his voice low, fill of understanding and compassion. "But I doubt you could have saved any of those people. You know what demons are like. They ride their hosts body _hard_. And even if you had tried to save them, I doubt any of them would have survived."

"You're probably right," Sam replied despondently. "But that doesn't excuse what I did. It doesn't excuse that I didn't even _try_ to save those people."

Dean just squeezed Sam's shoulder tighter in sympathy and understanding, not being able to find the words to ease his brother's guilt. So, Dean just sat there beside his brother and waited for Sam to compose himself before he eventually continued with what had happened to him while Dean had been stuck in Purgatory.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

"I was scared of the person I was turning into but I couldn't stop Dean." Sam's eyes grew rounder, imploring Dean to believe him and to forgive him for what he had done. "I had to find you Dean. I had to find out where you had gone and how I could get you back."

"I know Sammy," Dean awkwardly pattered his brother on the shoulder in a consoling way. "It's okay."

And Dean's message was clear; "It's okay Sammy, I forgive you."

Sam relaxed visibly at his older brother's understanding and acceptance of the dark things Sam had had to do during that time in order to track Crowley down so that he could find his brother.

"It was pure coincidence that I happened upon a Leviathan one day while tailing a demon and I decided not to waste the opportunity." Sam pursed his lips together thoughtfully, clasping his hand together, trying to get back to the cool, clinical and detached way he had started off this confession.

The more he could distance himself from this, the easy it would be to reveal the … other things that had happened.

"You had been gone for two and a half months and I had nothing to show for my efforts in tracking Crowley and … interrogating the demons I'd come across for information. To say that I was frustrated … didn't even cover it. So, when that Leviathan practically ended up in my lap, I wasted no time in changing tactics.

Instead of hunting fulltime for Crowley and his demons, I decided to split my focus and concentrate on hunting down the Leviathan until I could get an actual lead on Crowley.

I figured that the Leviathan would know what had happened to Dick Roman. I mean, I knew that he had exploded. But was he actually _dead_? Or had he just been transported somewhere else like you and Castiel seemed to have been?

We didn't really know a lot about the Leviathan, except they'd been locked in Purgatory since the dawn of time and they seemed to be indestructible. For all I knew, Dick Roman might have been resurrected after he'd exploded.

So, I decided to find out more about them. And maybe, in my quest for knowledge instead of the … violence and destruction I had been on, I would be able to find the answers to your disappearance as well."

"Wait a minute Sammy," Dean frowned, not liking the direction this was taking, but wanting to clarify a couple of things before his brother continued. "You deliberately went out and hunted Leviathan? By yourself?"

Sam blinked stupidly at Dean for a couple of seconds before he shrugged. "Of course, Dean," he answered in that annoying matter of fact tone that was really starting to get on Dean's nerves.

Sam didn't use this monotone, robotic voice when he had to tell Dean of a particularly hurtful encounter. His brother's tone was filled with lots of _raw_ emotion, his tone pitching high to low, not to mention the cracks that would enter whenever Sam had trouble saying something or remembering something that was painful.

His brother's low, deep sighs as well as the shake in his voice when Sam was fighting back pure emotion, were all indicators to Dean – who had spent a life time of looking after Sammy and studying him for subtle hints and clues as to what was going on his head – how his brother was _really_ doing, and how much pain he was in, whether he was lying to Dean or leaving out big chunks of information on purpose.

All of these signs helped Dean to better understand his brother and know how to take care of him. But when Sam used this mechanical, robotic tone, his features expressionless except for the clenching of his jaw, Dean felt totally off his game and he _knew_ this would be bad.

The few times Sam had tried to hide his feelings and deliberately locked down his emotions like this were times when Sam had been hurt bad … physically, emotionally, mentally … tortured, like he had been in Hell. Or … broken like he had been when he'd tried to drink his perceived guilt away, which had ultimately ended up with Sam making a deal with Gabriel and why they were here in the first place.

"I had to follow every lead that could help to give me answers on where you were." Sam continued in that tone, but Dean could see a spark of uncertainty and hesitancy within those puppy-dog eyes, always unconsciously seeking out the approval of his older brother.

"I get that." Dean sighed, shaking his head, baffled by his brother's stupidity. "But _alone_? Are you completely out of your mind Sam?" he demanded gruffly, his fear for his brother making his voice harsher than he had intended because he knew from first-hand experience how dangerous and deadly those sons of bitches are.

The three of them – Dean, Sam and Bobby – had had enough difficulty in going up against them. Dean couldn't imagine going up against them one on one. That was a suicide mission, an instant death wish, a –

"Stop growling Dean," Sam interrupted Dean's internal rant. "Before you burst a blood vessel, I was never in that much danger with the Leviathan. I had more trouble with the demons than I did the Leviathan."

Dean's eyebrows rose skeptically, not believing that for a second.

Sam laughed at his older brother's over protectiveness. "Really Dean, compared to before, these Leviathan were about as dangerous as a house cat. I can only assume that it had something to do with Dick Roman exploding. Because once he was gone, the rest of them seemed to have no will, no desire no … gumption to _do_ anything.

It was embarrassing really how easily I was able to take them down. Even though they're practically invincible and knowing their weakness … I was more than capable of handling them.

And as for hunting with anyone else … yeah, that wasn't about to happen." Sam scoffed before he met Dean's gaze, the shadow of loss, of sadness unexpectedly hitting Dean when he felt his own eyes prick with tears in response to his brother's emotion.

"The only hunter I trusted to have my back was you. And you were gone. So, I had to depend on and trust myself because there was no one left that I trusted to have my back."

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse.

**Author's Note:** This is my take on what happened to Sam in the year that Dean was in Purgatory.

So sorry it has taken me so long to update, but I had major issues with writer's block. Everything I put down just seemed wrong. But I'm back now, hopefully able to continue this story without further interruptions.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION:**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Sam's expression twisted into grief and heartache and it took everything in Dean not to back down right then and there. Swallowing back his emotions and blinking back his tears – because he was the big brother here and he had to lead by example – Dean moved his hand to the back of Sam's neck and squeezed gently, trying to remind Sam through the physical contact that Dean wasn't gone, Sam wasn't alone and that nothing bad would happen to Sam when Dean was around.

Sam felt himself relax against the grip Dean had upon the back of his neck, struggling to pull himself together because all of this was child's play compared to what had happened next.

But Sam allowed himself a few more minutes to bask in his brother's unconditional brotherly love and support because in the next few minutes or the next hour – depending on if his brother stuck around to hear him out or nor – Sam was all too aware that he may lose his big brother's unconditional support when Dean learned the full truth of what Sam had allowed to be done to him, of what Sam had to do in order to stay alive and to stay sane.

Dean may say that he would never walk away or that he would always forgive Sam no matter what, but Dean didn't know everything yet. And Sam tried hard not to expect too much. If his brother walked away or forced Sam away … Sam had to be prepared for that to happen. And to hopefully not get his expectations crushed in the process.

Dean was an awesome big brother; the best brother Sam could ever have wished for; who had been there with him through thick and thin; who had given up his life so that Sam could escape hunting and have a normal life of his own.

Dean had done everything to ensure Sam's happiness, his safety and to offer Sam the only stable security, comfort and home Sam had ever known. Even when Sam had betrayed and disappointed him time and time again, Dean had _always_ welcomed Sam back with open arms, instantly forgiving him, even when it had been through Sam's own selfishness and stupidity that he had ended up hurting his big brother.

The brothers were in a good place right now. And Sam hadn't told Dean about all of this for a reason. He had fabricated that lie of hitting a dog, meeting a girl and settling for normal because he hadn't wanted his brother to learn the truth. He didn't want Dean to be more disappointed in him than what he already was.

And maybe, in the beginning, when Sam realized that the lie he had constructed was hurting his brother more than he thought it would, Sam had wanted to come clean with Dean and tell him the truth. But Benny had … "convinced" Sam not to go through with it. He said that if Dean were ever to learn the truth, it wouldn't be Benny or the vampires Dean would be furious with or disappointed in, it would be with Sam himself.

Benny had "convinced" Sam that Dean would be hurt more if he learned the truth because who the hell would want a little brother who had allowed vampires and other supernatural beings – not to mention other crazy and dark humans – to have their way with him time and time again all so he could be given his drugs?

Dean would be ashamed and extremely embarrassed to learn that the little brother he had raised, protected and given up his life for, had turned out to be nothing more than a blood hoar who was doing tricks in order to get their next hit.

Of course, it was more complicated than that. Sam hadn't had a choice but to keep silent and let Dean keep thinking that lie was the truth, that Sam had abandoned him for normal.

Sam hadn't had a choice then … just as he hadn't had a choice when the vampires had made him do all of those things and got him hooked on the drugs in the first place, because of the magical brand they had branded onto his skin, infused with a blood spell which had kept Sam compliant and obedient to their demands and desires.

Now Sam had to reveal all of that to Dean. He had to tell his big brother the truth. He had to open the door to his shame, his hurt and his mortification of what he had been and what he had allowed himself to become. He had to be prepared for the consequences once Dean learned the truth about who and what his little brother really was. And he had to be prepared to walk out that door and never come back if Dean decided he could no longer stand to have such a disappointing little brother anymore.

Sam closed his eyes, the small, sad smile trembling upon his lips as he forced his thoughts to the present once more, knowing that whatever would happen, would happen, and all he could really do now was to explain this to his brother to the best of his ability.

Sam reopened his eyes, his emotions under as much control as he could get them at the moment, sitting up straighter, silently signalling his brother that he was okay now and ready to continue.

**SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW**

Dean searched his kid's face for any deceptions or lies, but he found only transparency and honesty, nodding to indicate his understanding of why Sam had hunted alone, but still worried because no matter how easy a hunt seemed, there were always complications, always times when things went haywire and before you knew it, you could be in real trouble if you didn't have back up.

"I was careful Dean," Sam promised, his voice soft, wanting to ease the worried look from his older brother's face.

"Yeah, okay Sam, I believe you." Dean briskly brushed Sam's concern away, not wanting this to develop into an emotional moment where Dean would have to _share_ his thoughts and feelings.

Dean didn't mind giving his younger brother occasional passes to indulge in his _girl_ feelings. But there was no way Dean was _sharing_ his feelings … not if he didn't have to anyway.

"So, did any of those leviathan's give you anything useful to go on?" Dean asked almost abruptly, wanting the attention off of him as soon as possible because this wasn't about _him_. This was about Sam spilling his guts so that those magically induced whip-scars upon Sam's back would stop tearing open, bleeding and would eventually go away.

Speaking of …

Dean's eyes flicked over to Sam's back. And although he could still see a couple of gaping wounds, at least the bleeding seemed to have stopped and Sam hadn't had another one open in a while, so maybe Sam was right. Maybe the whip-scars would reverse and disappear once Sam and revealed his big secret.

Satisfied that Sam didn't seem to be any more direct pain from those wounds, Dean returned his gaze to Sam and patiently waited for his younger brother to continue.

Sam rolled his eyes fondly at Dean's gruff, not so subtle way of changing the subject so that the attention remained off of him. "Yeah, eventually one of the more … volatile Leviathan's confirmed that exploding Dick Roman was dead – no resurrections, no coming back as a zombie leviathan – nope, the dude was unequivocally dead. And where do monsters go when they die?

Purgatory. He figured that _if_ you were still alive, he would bet that you had somehow gotten caught up in the explosion and been transported to Purgatory somehow." Sam snorted, disgusted with himself. "And as highly unlikely as that scenario seemed, I knew it was the correct one. I could have kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner. Because, _of course_ that's where you were and that's why I couldn't find any leads on you top-side. You had been transported into Hell's backyard and I knew what I had to do next."

"Research, right geek boy?" Dean grinned at his brother, nudging his shoulder teasingly, relieved to notice a small smile breach Sam's outer exterior.

"Yeah, I researched everything and anything I could get my hands on concerning Purgatory. I even resorted to going to other hunters to see what they knew about Purgatory. But that was a dead end. They told me I was wasting my time and that you were dead."

"Sam, I swear, if any of those other hunters hurt you –" Dean began, seeing something within his brother's large eyes which unsettled the older hunter.

"There's no need to worry about that Dean," Sam assured him, blushing deeply now as he recalled what he had done to those hunters in response to them telling Sam that Dean was dead. "I … uh … I think I burned most of the cooperation bridges that we _might_ have still had with other hunters when I … kind of … knocked them out for telling me to give up on you; that you were dead."

"Huh."

Although Dean knew he should feel concerned and worried about his younger brother's mental and emotional state of mind because he had attacked other hunters for telling him something Sam didn't want to hear, Dean couldn't quite hide his smile of pride. Because that was so typical of Sam.

He had never just blindly followed Dad's orders like Dean himself had. No, Sam had always wanted to know _why_ Dad had come to that particular conclusion. He was the same way with Dean. If something felt off to Sam, he wouldn't take anyone else's word for it. He would research and figure it out on his own until he'd gotten an answer he was satisfied with.

Dean couldn't recall the number of times Sam's tenacious stubbornness had saved both their Dad's life and Dean's own, and all because of Sam's natural born inquisitiveness.

"Oh well." Dean shrugged indifferently, not worried if Sam had destroyed all of those bridges with other hunters. They worked better with just the two of them anyway. "We're better off without them." He added dismissively.

Sam's smile grew wider for a few seconds before his expression fell, letting out a low sigh, remembering some of the more violent altercations he'd had with those hunters who had talked trash about his older brother and how Dean had gotten exactly what he had deserved.

Needless to say, Sam had left those particular hunters in a bloody heap while other hunters had promised payback and vengeance for Sam having hurt their buddies.

Sam shook his head to rid himself of those images and the feelings of shame that they invoked in Sam. No matter what they had said, they hadn't deserved the beating Sam had given them. But he had been in a dark place and he had been slowly spiralling out of control in a dangerous way.

"With each dead end I faced, I became increasingly … desperate … erratic in my search, because if you had managed to get into Purgatory, then so could I." Sam closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing and rapid heartbeat, because, even today, remembering how every time he had come across a lead about Purgatory, only for it to lead to another dead end, the same feelings of bitterness and frustration he had felt at that time, caused Sam to experience those feelings all over again.

"But the only proven way that I knew of, of how to open a door to Purgatory, was the spell that Castiel had casted which had broken the leviathan's free from their prison in the first place. Plus, there was the other method with the weapon we had created to kill Dick Roman, which had made him explode and had caused you to disappear without a trace."

Sam laughed a dark, bitter laugh. "I was so desperate that I was willing to try the spell that Castiel had casted because I'd honestly exhausted every other avenue I could think of to either get you out of there or get myself in there to find you."

"Sammy," Dean gasped aghast, slightly horrified by the desperate, loss and darkness that had crossed his brother's features. "That would have been extremely reckless and dangerous." He reprimanded his younger sibling sternly. "Besides, you can't just open a door to Purgatory and expect to get in. At least, not without an exploding Dick!" Dean couldn't help but quip, hoping to relieve the darkness that had crossed Sam's features. But his feeble attempt fell short, causing Sam to sag dejectedly now, even as that dark bitterness left Sam's expression.

"I guess you're right." Sam sighed deeply, his head hanging low again as he gazed at his hands which were clasped together upon his lap. "And fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on who you talk to – the only two people in existence who knew that particular spell was Crowley and Castiel. Crowley wasn't playing well with others and Castiel had vanished with you.

I was out of options, out of hope and becoming extremely dangerous in my desperation because nothing I did was helping me get any closer to finding you or freeing you.

So, when _he_ eventually sent his children to find me, wanting to meet face to face and offered me the deal … I accepted it because I _knew_ that was the only option, the only hope I had to get you back."

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Dean's heart thudded loudly in his ears at his younger brother's low, guilt-ridden tone. And, although Sam tried to keep his voice neutral, Dean could hear the undercurrents of fear within his baby brother's voice.

That, coupled with how fidgety he was getting, avoiding eye contact and the rigid tenseness of Sam's body, were all indicators and clues to Sam's extreme uneasiness, his nervousness and his apprehension.

Dean's throat suddenly dried up, knowing by his brother's actions and subtle hints Sam had given off without Sam even consciously aware of doing it, that whatever Sam told him next would make Dean furious.

Dean could tell how scared Sam was to tell him by the little worried, fugitive glances he would shoot his older brother, not to mention the fact that the kid was chewing upon his bottom lip as if it was a tasty morsel.

Sam knew that the first thing Dean would do would be to erupt in anger. And while he knew most of that anger would be because Dean was worried and concerned, Sam also feared that some of that anger may be directed at him. And really, Dean couldn't blame the kid for that thought. Because how many other times over the years had Dean reacted to Sam's screw-ups with violence and anger?

A lot more times than Dean liked to admit.

Dean took a deep breath, held it for several seconds as he tried to curb his extreme worry before he released his breath, knowing that he was on edge in reaction to his little brother's actions, urging himself to remain as calm as he could, considering the situation.

"Tell me Sam, who'd you make a deal with?" Dean prompted in a low, controlled voice, while his own imagination went into overdrive.

Dean could only hope that the kid hadn't done anything as stupid as selling his soul for Dean's freedom. Because, if he had, then Sam had gotten duped on the whole deal because Dean hadn't returned immediately from Purgatory; instead, he had been in that hell hole for a whole year before he had gotten out.

Still, maybe that could have been part of the demon's deal. Maybe it had taken the demon time in order to recover Dean from Purgatory.

Dean did a quick calculation in his head, knowing that a deal with a demon normally lasted for ten years before hell hounds dragged your soul away to Hell. Had it been ten years since Dean had come back from Purgatory?

Panic started to surge within Dean until he realized that it hadn't even been _close_ to ten years since Dean had escaped Purgatory. It had only been three years.

Still, that didn't mean that Sam hadn't struck a deal with a demon, because Dean's own deal to bring Sam back to life had only been for a year. And their Dad hadn't gotten any time at all when he'd saved Dean's life all of those years ago.

Deals with demons and crossroad demon's alike, didn't run their natural ten-year course if your last name was Winchester, it seemed. So, even if the timing was off, it didn't mean that Sam hadn't struck a deal for his soul.

If Sam had sold his soul for him, Dean was going to totally lose it because this was _not_ what he had wanted. He hadn't wanted Sam to be in danger. He'd only wanted to know that the kid had cared enough to have _looked_ for him.

"Sammy, if you made a deal with a demon and sold your soul for me, I swear, I'm going to kick your ass so hard that you won't be able to sit down for a week." Dean growled, fervently praying that he was wrong about this. Because he couldn't go through that again. He couldn't lose his brother all over again … not when they were just learning how to be brothers again.

"What?" Sam blinked at his brother in surprise before he offered Dean a small smile and slight shake of his head. "I didn't make a deal with a demon, Dean. Crowley wasn't letting any of his demons out to play, remember?" Sam added in a tone of self-disgust. "Believe me, I would have willingly made a deal with a demon to get you out of that place immediately, rather than wait two and a half damn months before I had even _verified_ where you were. But no matter what I did or said, the few crossroad demons I ran across those first two months, wouldn't deal.

So, no Dean, I didn't sell my soul to Hell. Although, what did actually occur … I lost my soul in a whole other way entirely."

The self-hatred, bitterness and disgust were all things Dean had gotten used to hearing within his brother's tone over the years. And while hearing the self-hatred, bitterness and disgust would always cause Dean's protective big brother fury to reignite within him, raging at the things that had caused these emotions to enter his brother's tone, causing Dean to vow vengeance at any cost; it was when he heard the undercurrents of fear, humiliation and beaten despair, which caused Dean's protective big brother fury to go into overdrive.

Because, no matter what, even after all of these years, _anyone_ or _anything_ that dared to put that much fear in his younger brother's voice deserved only one thing … instant death.

Dean knew that by the end of Sam's confession, he'd be demanding names and would be exacting his vengeance, Amara and the looming apocalypse be damned, because nobody had the right to mess with his hid brother and no matter how long ago it had been, Dean would have great pleasure in reminding those assholes of that very fact.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Okay, so Sam hadn't made a deal with a demon. That knowledge made Dean breathe a little bit easier because at least now he didn't have to save Sam's soul from Hell, which was a hell of a lot harder than bringing his brother back from the dead.

No demon deals.

What else was powerful enough that could swing getting Dean out of Purgatory? Angels?

Dean highly doubted that any angel would ever want to help the Winchesters, especially since their angel buddy Castiel, had been the angel responsible for getting them all evicted from Heaven.

But Dean still had to consider that an option because Dean himself, knew what it felt like to be so desperate that you would do _anything_ to bring your brother back … even if that meant "convincing" an angel of the Lord to help you, even if that angel would just as sooner smite you dead, rather than help you. Any risk would be acceptable as long as you achieved your goal of bringing your brother back to you.

Dean closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together, trying to reign in his fear. Demons were predictable and only interested in self-preservation and what the deal could do for them. Plus, Dean knew of lots of ways to get rid of demons. He knew their weaknesses and their faults. He knew how to get under their skin, to make them talk or to shut them down. Demons, although highly formidable, made Dean feel a hell of a lot more comfortable than angels.

Demons, he could deal with. Angels, on the other hand, were on a totally different level altogether.

Yes, a lot of them were _dicks_. And some angels were in it for themselves – like Balthazar and Zachariah – but the majority of them still obeyed orders no matter where they came from, not questioning those orders, just knowing that they are doing the Lord's work.

They were unpredictable in their motives and had little weaknesses to exploit – although, over the years, Dean had picked up a couple of neat tricks in combating these seemingly all-powerful angels of the Lord – and because of their righteous belief, they would stop at nothing to achieve their mission.

You couldn't reason with them or bargain with them as you could a demon because nothing else mattered as long as they completed their holy mission … not even the threat of their own existence was a deterrent.

Angels didn't normally made deals with mortals. They found humans were beneath them, filled with lots of flaws and a waste of their time. But Dean couldn't discount a deal with an angel because the angels _had_ been evicted from their home; they were pissed, and if they knew of Castiel's survival, then Dean had no doubt they would do whatever it took to get their hands on the angel who had betrayed them … even at the extent of making a deal with a flawed mortal …. Even if that flawed mortal was the worst of their kind, the boy with the demon blood.

Angels were sanctimonious bastards. They could say they would do something and then turn around and do the exact opposite – which could explain why Dean had spent a whole year in Purgatory instead of just two months – of what they had promised.

Hmm, it was kind of ironic that you could trust a demon to keep their word more than you could an actual angel of the Lord. Which was exactly why Dean preferred demons over angels.

He really hoped his stupidly, idiotic brother hadn't made a deal with an angel because those sons of bitches really did Dean's head in. Still, if an angel had decided to screw with his little brother, Dean would have no problem in putting his own discomfort aside to track that asshat down and send it straight back to where ever it was angels went when they died.

"Please tell me you didn't make a deal with a damn angel," Dean half-joked, half-pleaded, reopening his eyes to see that his little brother wasn't aware of his surroundings; the expressive hazel eyes Dean had grown up with, instantly knowing his brother's emotional state, were now distant and closed off.

Sam's expression was taunt, stony, unreadable and Dean knew that his brother was thinking too much. He was stuck in the past reliving something that had caused him great hurt and regret. And it didn't take a genius to figure out where Sam's mind was at. He was obviously reliving the past few months that Dean had no knowledge of about yet, when Dean had spent the year in Purgatory.

From what Sam had said, Sam had spent the first two and a half months looking for Dean, hunting down demons and leviathan's alike. And Dean knew that Sam had spent the last three months of that year in a psychiatric hospital, being treated by the psychiatrist Amelia, before Sam had received Dean's phone call informing his younger brother that Dean was back. Now, all that was missing was the six and a half months in between.

Sam being in his own head was not a good thing. Because that's when Sam came up with such ludicrous and ridiculous thoughts; that's when Sam acted on his emotions alone, not pausing to think of the repercussions his actions may cause; that's when Sam did such stupid and utterly dangerous stunts like casting a spell to make a wish so that Dean could have a better life with a little brother who appreciated him more, for example.

Which was exactly what had happened six months ago. But Dean had been too blind, too stubborn to see how terribly low, hurt and full of grief his little brother really was; how close to completely breaking down he truly was.

But Dean was here now. Dean had learned his lesson and he would make sure that Sam never felt that low again, that close to breaking that he was willing to sacrifice himself because that's what he thought would make Dean happy.

Stupid kid should realize by now that the only thing that truly made him happy was to have Sam by his side, watching his back, helping Dean kill as many evil sons of bitches as possible.

"Sammy," Dean called out to him a little more loudly, a sharp quality entering his tone which he knew would get Sam's attention. He didn't actually want to scare him, he just wanted Sam to get out of his own head, to stop the ridiculous, ludicrous guilty complex that his kid had before it progressed into something like what had happened six months ago.

Sam jumped, startled by the sharp tone in his brother's voice, looking around in frantic confusion when his brother used that particular tone because it usually meant that they were in trouble.

But then Sam remembered that he was safe; they were safe. He was at the bunker, in his room, Dean was beside him and Sam most definitely was not face to face with seven vampires, about to be taken to the Alpha vampire so they could discuss the deal that Sam wasn't foolish enough not to accept.

"Sam!" Dean repeated, tapping Sam on his shoulder to get his attention when Sam remained still and silent.

"Wha-what?" Sam gasped, his mind firmly back in the present now, raising his eyebrows questioningly, completely lost.

"Did you make a deal with an angel?" Dean asked again, pronouncing each word slowly so that his still dazed looking sibling could understand what he was talking about.

"Deal with an angel?" Sam's brow bunched up in puzzlement before he shook his head and chuckled ruefully. "Yeah, right. As if any angel would ever want to help _me_." Sam scoffed, no bitterness in his tone, just a dark, morbid kind of humour. "It probably would have ended up better if I _had_ made a deal with an angel. But, no. I didn't make a deal with an angel."

Although that knowledge relieved Dean, because angels were a bunch of douchebags who would more than likely screw you over than help you, it left him feeling more confused and worried than before because he honestly didn't know of any other being that had the juice to get him out of Purgatory.

"Okay. So, if it wasn't angels or demons … just who exactly did you make a deal with?"

Sam's dark amusement vanished in an instant to be replaced by the haunted look that Dean decided he _really_ didn't like at all. Especially not on _his_ little brother.

"Vampire." Sam practically whispered, his face turning a worrying shade of pale before he cleared his throat and tried again. "I made a deal with the Alpha vampire."

Ah … shit.

Dean could remember that smarmy bastard; both when their grandfather had imprisoned the Alpha for Crowley's experiments to find the door to Purgatory, and when soulless Sam had let Dean get turned into a vampire, which was the reason why Grandpa Campbell was able to capture the Alpha vampire in the first place.

And then, more recently, there was the time when Dean and Sam had to track the Alpha down in order to get a vial of his blood which had been part of an ingredient the brothers had needed in order to get a weapon powerful enough to defeat Dick Roman, leader of the leviathans.

Dean shuddered violently at those recollections. The Alpha vampire was a smooth operator who didn't let anyone get under his skin or get his feathers ruffled. He oozed old school, dark and evil. When you dealt with him, you knew you were dealing with something powerful; something ancient; something that always make Dean feel so small and insignificant.

The only other being who could induce similar feelings in Dean was Death himself … well, _before_ Dean had killed him of course, which Dean knew would have serious repercussions that Dean wasn't aware of yet. But that was another problem for another time.

The point was, Dean definitely didn't want to _willingly_ tango with the Alpha vampire. And the fact that his little brother – who'd been hunting alone and had _no_ back up what so ever – had had to face that smug, _evil_ son of a bitch _alone_, caused Dean's tense posture to become even more tense, his worry increasing dramatically knowing that whatever the Alpha had wanted in return for releasing Dean from Purgatory wouldn't be good.

Dean was horrified, terrified and extremely anxious about his brother making a deal with that particular monster.

In the past, Dean would have portrayed those emotions through anger. He would have gotten so angry with Sam for doing such a stupidly, dangerous stunt as making a deal for _him_ when it was Dean's job to protect Sam; he would have sworn, cursed and lectured Sam until the two of them would have ended up in an argument.

But now, Dean realized how pointless that was. Sam already knew how badly he had screwed up. He didn't need Dean to shove it back in his face. And honestly, would Dean have done any differently if the roles had been reversed?

Dean knew the answer to that question was the same answer he would give every single time his brother's life was on the line; Dean would do whatever he could, whatever it took, to save his brother. Dean didn't have the right to badger Sam about wanting to save him when Dean had done everything in his power to save Sam's life over and over again throughout the years.

It all boiled down to the older brother perspective Dean had about what his little brother could and shouldn't do for him, questioning Sam's decisions, his actions … which was one of the reasons why the rift between them had grown so large.

By his actions – even though everything Dean had ever done was to protect Sam and keep him safe – could be seen by his self-doubting, negative thinking little brother, that Dean didn't trust him.

And that was most definitely _not_ the case. There was no one on the planet Dean trusted more than he did his baby brother. And it was time Dean showed Sam that he considered Sam his equal; that the two of them were a team.

So, instead of releasing his misplaced anger, Dean only sighed in frustration and regret for not being there with his brother to protect him from what Dean knew, deep in his gut, would be extremely bad.

"Ah fuck Sammy," he swore softly, having to avert his eyes for a moment, not wanting Sam to see how absolutely terrified he was for his little brother as he tried to get his raging emotions under control.

Sam watched the different range of emotions that crossed over his older brother's features. Even though Dean tried to remain stoic and emotionless, Sam could see beneath his brother's carefully crafted facade. And what he saw wasn't exactly surprising, what was surprising was that his older brother wasn't instantly in Sam's face, angrily demanding to know what had happened while lecturing him about why making deals with monsters was never a good idea.

Sam couldn't suppress the surprised chuckle at Dean's soft exclamation. "Yeah, that about sums it up." Sam agreed bitterly. "That wasn't one of my finder moments, I know. But …" Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady his nerves when Dean turned away from him. "I was desperate." He finished off in a whisper, imploring Dean to try and understand where he was coming from.

"I didn't mean to align myself with another monster Dean, but I didn't have a choice." Sam continued regretfully. "I was in a really bad place; erratic and spiralling deeper out of control because I felt so helpless and I couldn't save you.

For once in my miserable life, I just wanted to save you Dean. And I didn't care _who_ I had to deal with in order to achieve that. I'm sorry Dean, I know I fucked up and have disappointed you again, but …"

Dean frowned at the soft, almost hysterical quality he could hear in his younger brother's voice. His kid brother was babbling and that was never a good thing.

"Hey," Dean clamped a hand upon his brother's shoulder, more concerned when Sam's wide-blown hazel eyes turned his way and Dean could feel Sam trembling under his hand. "It's okay Sammy, I get it." He soothed his distraught sibling. "And, for the record, I have _never_ been disappointed in you. _Ever_.

I may have been frustrated with some of the choices you made and worried for you, but you have never disappointed me. Not when it really matters anyway." Dean amended when he saw Sam's skeptical look. "And, remember geek boy, that the whole apocalypse mess doesn't count because we already forgave each other and ourselves. Right Sammy?"

Sam blushed at his older brother's reproachful tone. Yeah, he remembered. And he was trying. But forgiving himself was proving especially difficult when he had to remember other epic failures in his life.

Becoming addicted to demon blood and choosing Ruby over his own brother, was the greatest regret in Sam's life.

Purgatory was a close second.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied abuse of a minor

**Author's Note:** Benny makes an appearance in this chapter, so will warn all Benny fans again that he is not painted in a good light in this story. Also, if anyone has read _**Unforgiving Antidote**_, Phoenix, Arizona will be explained in this chapter, which wasn't supposed to happen … but, here it is.

**Special Thanks: **to **Pie Love Luci**, thanks for all of your support and kind words.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"Sammy, dude, the more you procrastinate and don't tell me, the more nervous and worried I become." Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder gently in a show of brotherly support. "I promise not to blow up until you've finished telling me everything, okay?"

Sam eyed Dean closely for several seconds before he scoffed loudly. "You'll be blowing up well before the end Dean," Sam predicted dryly, a hint of self-loathing and disgust within his tone. "Because I damn well know better than to trust a monster but … I grew complacent." Sam sighed softly, his expression morphing into sadness now.

"Tell me," Dean urged, giving his brother's shoulder one more gentle squeeze before he let go, giving his younger brother his undivided attention.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady his nerves as best he could, just taking one step at a time. Because if he thought too far ahead, he would freeze up in fear, Dean would be transported to an alternate universe of his own Hell and Sam … Sam would have failed his big brother yet again.

"Vampires." Sam choked over the word, swallowing down his nausea, trying to get back to the emotionless, almost unfeeling way he had started this confession.

Sam cleared his throat and tried again. "It was the end of the second month that you had been gone when the vampires approached me."

Sam could vividly recall that particular night because that had been the night he'd let his guard down. He had let all of the guilt and frustration overwhelm him to the point where he had tried to drown his sorrows with alcohol.

He'd just wanted one damn night of peace where he wouldn't be plagued with nightmares of how badly he had failed his older brother, his overactive imagination creating horrific scenarios in which Dean was badly hurt, maimed, fighting for his life, screaming for Sam's help and Sam … Sam was never able to prevent his older brother's demise; he was never able to get Dean out in time and could do nothing but watch helplessly as his beloved older brother died in a bloody, torturous mess, his green eyes filled with accusation and hate because Sam hadn't been able to save his brother from this gruesome outcome.

Every night it was the same; Dean would die in some horrendous way while Sam fought to get to him but was never able to reach him in time, Dean looking up at him with accusation; sometimes Dean would spit scathing comments from his dying mouth, asking why Sam hadn't saved him, telling Sam that he had always been a burden, that Dean hated and despised him for not having a normal life and how everything bad in their lives had been Sam's fault, before Sam was bolting up in bed, covered in sweat, his brother's name pursed on his lips, agony searing in his heart and soul because he had failed when he'd promised himself that he would save Dean this time.

Of course, Sam knew that Dean never blamed him for yellow-eyes or their mother's death. And he knew that Dean would never say such cruel and heartless things – even if he did maybe think them – Sam knew that these images and words his older brother spoke in his dreams was Sam's own feelings of guilt, remorse and insecurities.

Still, even logically knowing that, Sam couldn't help the guilt and sorrow he felt get deeper and darker the longer he couldn't rescue his brother from Purgatory.

Sam had just wanted a full night's peace; away from his reoccurring nightmares, his never-ending guilt, not to mention how scared he was of the person he was becoming while he tortured demons and leviathan alike to get the information he needed. He had just wanted to quiet his mind and ease his suffering soul for one God damned night.

So, he had decided to quieten that annoying voice of guilt, to numb the constant pain he was in by drinking himself into a drunken oblivion, which he hoped would make him pass out so he could get a full night of undisturbed sleep.

Unfortunately, that was the night the vampires had decided to ambush him outside of his motel room. They managed to get the drop on him while they strong armed him into the room, out of sight from prying eyes.

"I'm embarrassed to say that they managed to get the drop on me. I didn't even sense their presence because … I'd had a bit too much to drink." Sam reluctantly admitted, lowering his eyes in shame, not wanting to see the look of disappointment that he knew would be upon his older brother's face.

As it was, Sam could easily detect the low, long sigh of disappointment, followed by a soft declaration of older brother tolerance when dealing with little brothers who had made foolish mistakes.

"Oh Sammy,"

"Yeah, I know. Always keep your guard up; never drink so much that it dulls your senses; always be aware of your surroundings." Sam shook his head bitterly as he rattled off the first three rules of hunting his older brother had taught him.

"All I can say is that I grew sloppy. I'd spent the last two months hunting down demons and leviathans that I became too cocky for my own good. I honestly didn't expect _anything_ to be hunting me. I thought I was invincible, unstoppable, and the fact that I hadn't even caught a whiff of vampires _anywhere_ in the last two months … I didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to come after me. All I really wanted was a … I just wanted to stop thinking for a while and to have a night of uninterrupted sleep."

Dean could picture the scene of his discouraged and disillusioned drunken little brother being jumped by a group of vampires. And the images that played out in his mind's eye sent the big brother protective streak sky rocketing to the surface, the tick under his eye becoming more pronounced the angrier he became because nobody had the right to jump his little brother.

"I was completely ambushed and I'm ashamed to admit that before I even knew what was happening, it was all over; they had already surrounded me and succeeded in moving me into my motel room, away from prying eyes." Sam admitted in a soft voice, shaking his head, frustrated with himself and what he had allowed to happen.

Dean closed his eyes, bitting the inside of his check to keep from screaming and yelling at his younger brother for being so _stupid_. Sam had decided to hunt alone. He should have known that as a hunter you could never let your guard down … especially if your last name was Winchester because all of the evil fuglies out there who were just waiting for a chance to get their hands on a Winchester. And the fact that Sam had been alone and in a vulnerable state of mind hadn't helped matters either.

Dean couldn't really blame his brother for not thinking about those types of dangers because Dean had spoilt the kid by taking on the responsibilities of those worries himself.

Dean had wanted Sam to live as normal of a life as possible, considering the upbringing they'd had, so Dean had tried to put his brother in a protective bubble where he didn't have to worry about constantly keeping a look out and being wary about new situations or surroundings in case the monsters they hunted decided to take revenge on them.

Hunting and the hazards that come with the job were bad enough. Dean didn't want to add to Sam's nightmares by scaring him about possible revenge scenarios – either from the monsters their Dad put down or the human hunters that their Dad had crossed over the years – so Dean had taken that worry onto his own shoulders. He had been the one who had scouted their surroundings. He was the one who was always alert and keeping sharp eyes out for potential threats.

Sam had learned the basics, of course, but he'd never had to experience the weight of having someone else's life in your hands; he'd never had to experience thinking about all of the possible threats out there that Dean had to because Sam was the younger brother and Dean was the older brother, whose sole purpose was to protect and look out for his pain in the ass little brother.

But, in saying that, Sam wasn't sloppy. On a hunt, Sam was exceptional at scouting his surroundings, being alert and prepared because he was protecting his brother's and father's backs. When it came to having Dean's back, Sam was the best in the business and Dean trusted no one else to watch his back like Sam did.

But Sam had always been … haphazard about watching his own back. Maybe that was because he always knew Dean had his back. And that's why when Dean wasn't around, Sam tended to get into trouble … more trouble than he would have if Dean was around.

"The one damn time I let my guard down and …" Sam's hand clenched into a fist, completely avoiding his brother's eyes because now … this was when things were about to get … messy.

"Anyway, there I was, surrounded by seven vampires, but I was too drunk to know just how royally screwed I was … or maybe I just didn't care. I don't know." Sam shrugged. "Either way, it didn't matter. They had me right where they wanted me.

I remember thinking I was going to die, drunk and defenceless in a crappy motel room, not even going out in that blaze of glory which I know would have impressed you and made you proud."

Sam quickly glanced over at his older brother, seeing the lines of anger, worry and fear, the tick under his brother's eye becoming worse, those familiar green eyes closed before Sam returned his gaze to his hands once more.

"But they hadn't come to kill me. They had come to offer an invitation for me to meet with their father." Sam snorted bitterly at that. "I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it was that a group of vampires were asking me to go with them so I could meet with the Alpha vampire. I mean, they should be killing me. That's what vampires did, right? They fed off of you and they killed you."

Instinctively, Dean moved closer to his younger brother, hearing the cracks of emotion within his brother's voice, that edge of hysteria and panic all too familiar for Dean.

This was the exact tone and the exact way Sam acted when he had been hurt bad enough that he tried to keep it from his older brother. This was the end result of his emotional kid brother trying to keep things bottled up, trying to bury his emotions, trying to harden up and be like his Dad and big brother. This was exactly what happened before Sam's emotional walls came tumbling down, before Sam broke and shattered, finally giving into his emotional trauma and hurt.

But, luckily for Sam, Dean had always been there to pick up the pieces.

Once Dean knew that keeping emotions in check was not a good thing for Sam, Dean had reverted to pestering his little brother to talk.

He had always allowed Sam to express his emotions. He had even held his brother a few times over the years when Sam had become so emotionally and physically drained to the point of near exhaustion, that Sam would cry himself to sleep, sobbing as quietly as he could so he didn't wake their father, his body shaking violently as he fought to reign in and control his emotional outburst.

Dean had just held him tighter, knowing that words wasn't what his brother needed at times like these. He needed the physical contact and to be allowed to express himself in whatever way he chose, whether that be through tears or anger.

Dean had let him cry – even though it broke his heart to see his baby brother breaking down – wrapping a protective arm around him, offering squeezes of support and love before Sam's sobs would finally lessen, his shaking body easing to shivers as Sam whispered apologies for breaking down and bawling like a baby, before he would finally drift off into an uneasy sleep.

Dean deliberately let his left knee gently nudge his brother's right leg, hoping that the physical contact could ground his emotionally spiralling, out of control sibling before Sam crashed.

"What did you do Sammy? Apart from laugh at them." Dean rolled his eyes, bitting his tongue against telling his brother how dangerous it was to laugh when surrounded by seven damn vampires.

"Well, what do you think I did Dean?" Sam turned to him, giving Dean his cheeky little brother grin that Dean _knew_ led to nothing good.

The good scenario, Dean would cringe inwardly at his brother's antics, but would end up laughing about it someday. The worst possible scenario would have Dean hunting down some stupid sons of bitches and teaching them _not_ to mess with his brother while giving Sam the biggest lecture about protecting himself and thinking things through before he acted impulsively … a lesson Dean knew he still needed to learn when it came to his brother being in trouble or hurt.

"I politely declined their offer by picking up a machete and beheading the closest vampire to me." Sam shrugged as if it was no big deal.

Dean stared at his brother in horror, flabbergasted. He wasn't sure if he should be extremely proud of Sam's stubborn defiance or terrified that his brother now had _six_ pissed of vampires around him.

"You … beheaded one of the vampires?"

"Yep." Sam grinned proudly.

"How the hell are you still alive?" Dean demanded, his tone automatically going down a notch in preparation for big brother lecture mode. "You should be dead. Six pissed off vampires just stood there and watched you behead their buddy and they did _nothing_? They should have –"

"Turned me into vampire chow." Sam supplied unhelpfully. "I know. And I didn't exactly get away with killing their buddy. There were … consequences to my rash actions."

"What do you mean?" Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously at his brother's words.

"It doesn't matter," Sam waved off Dean's well-meaning concern. "The point is, they didn't kill me … even after my suicidal stunt in killing their comrade. But they did quickly relieve me of my weapon and subdue me while I tried to dodge all of the flying fists that came at me."

Sam could recall the fist of the vampire who had stuck first, his lips curled in fury as he struck Sam repeatedly, practically snarling when he forced his fellow vampires to stop while he proceeded to pound upon the youngest Winchester, who lay in a protective ball, trying to deflect the blows as much as he could, his arms held protectively over his head.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the _leader_ vampire stopped his attack and squatted down beside the barely conscious hunter, his fury and hate not abating at all after the beating he had bestowed upon the drunken young man.

"Lucky for you _boy_, our father wants you alive. If I had my way, I'd kill you right now and be done with you." He snarled, and Sam could see the disdain and the disgust this vampire had for Sam, a human, a _hunter_, who had just killed one of his own kin.

The lead vampire spared a glance at his brother vampires before he moved his mouth close to Sam's ear. "But I can't let you off the hook completely for killing my second in command. And what I have planned for you … well, let's just say that you'll wish that I had killed you right here and now."

Sam shivered violently at the deadly threat of that dark promise before Sam was hauled to his feet, held securely between two vampires while the lead vampire, who had just beaten and threatened him, pulled Sam's head up by his hair, forcing Sam to look into blue eyes that Sam would never forget for as long as he lived.

"Before we send you into La La Land and you meet with our father, I want you to know the name of your own personal tormentor who will forever dedicate _my_ life in making your life a living hell.

And, remember … I live forever.

My name is Benny Lafitte." The grin that flicked across the vampire's face, sent shivers of dread running up and down Sam's spine, even as Sam kept his expression neutral, not willing to show this son of a bitch how intimidated and slightly panicked Sam now felt.

"Remember that name _boy_, because the next time you wake up, I will be making your life your own person hell." He promised, smirking at the apprehensive fear he could see within the hunter's eyes before he spat in Sam's face, his own features twisting into pure disgust.

Before Sam could say something stupid like: "I've been to Hell and been tortured by Lucifer himself … there's _nothing_ you can do to me that will make me scared of the likes of you." Before he felt a prick of a needle and then the next thing he knew was darkness.

"Sammy, you tell me what those vampires did to you."

Sam blinked, instantly brought back to the present by the commanding tone in his big brother's low, lethal voice.

Sam couldn't help but smile a little at the manic, protective big brother tone because that alone sent a clear message to Sam that Dean still cared despite what he had heard so far. But, to be fair, Sam hadn't gotten the worst part yet.

Sam met his brother's concerned green eyes and smiled reassuringly. "It was nothing I haven't dealt with before Dean, from other bullies throughout my life."

Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly and Sam knew by that stubborn big brother patented look that Dean expected to get every single detail of what had happened between him and the vampires.

Sam let out along, exasperated sigh, shooting his brother a slightly annoyed bitch face, because even though Sam relished in the fact that Dean cared about him enough that he was willing to take on anyone or anything that ever threatened him or laid a hand on him, Sam also knew how annoying and suffocating that could be because there were just some things that Dean didn't need to know about.

Dean tended to focus on all of the wrong things. He thought that if he got rid of all of Sam's bullies and tormentors that his brother could be safe and would be able to live a relatively normal life.

As if getting rid of every person and evil being that upset Sam would make Sam feel safe and less threatened when he knew full well what else was out there in the darkness preying on oblivious humans, could ever make Sam feel safe or less threatened … Well, okay, maybe it did make Sam feel a little better knowing that there was someone who was willing to stand up for him. Still, it didn't mean that Dean had to deliberately get himself involved in dangerous situations because they had dared to hurt Sam Winchester. Sam would never forgive himself if Dean got seriously hurt defending him or hunting down the people and monsters that had upset or hurt the youngest Winchester.

Sam knew his brother meant well. And he knew that in Dean's big brother mind that whenever he took down a school bully or fucked up the evil being who had hurt Sam, was his way of making things right because he had failed to protect his younger brother from harm.

Sam loved his big brother for doing that. He did. And he wouldn't be _Dean_ if he didn't still want to rip out the lungs of the evil beings out there who really liked screwing with the youngest Winchester. Sam just wished that sometimes Dean would stop being the manic, obsessive, protective older brother and think about the harm he could cause to _himself_ when he went on these older brother crusades to defend Sam.

"They beat me into submission and drugged me for the duration of the journey to meet the Alpha vampire. It was nothing I haven't had before Dean." Sam, stressed, seeing Dean's look soften slightly when he realized that Sam was telling the truth.

"Okay," Dean breathed, nodding in satisfaction, but Dean also knew that his brother wasn't telling him _everything_ that had happened with those vampires. His little brother radar of tells when that same little brother was hiding things was sending up great red flags of warning to Dean. "That's the edited, PG version which won't send me off on a psychotic rampage of revenge. Now, why don't you tell me what really happened?"

Sam sent Dean an impressively, defiant bitch face this time, but that just proved Dean's point when he noticed Sam unconsciously running a hand over the inside of his lower left arm, his body tense, even as he was trying to distract Dean by deflecting Dean's attention to his innocent why-don't-you-believe-me puppy look.

"Sam, what else did they do to you?"

"What, beating me and drugging me isn't enough?" Sam retorted sarcastically, defensively.

Dean had to mentally count to ten in order not to rise to Sam's anger, knowing that it was just one of his little brother's carefully constructed defensive mechanisms so he could get Dean off of his back without having to provide any other details of that particular subject by deliberately baiting Dean to anger, which would cause an argument between the two brothers and would ultimately end with Dean storming out of the room in a huff, that subject never seeing the light of day again.

When Dean had been younger, it hadn't taken too much for Dean to get into an argument with his brother; it had been easier for Sam to manipulate Dean into getting into an argument all for the sole purpose of distraction and deflection. And it had worked. Dean would end up storming off to clear his head, reminding himself of the reasons why he shouldn't strangle his pain in the ass little brother and Sam would have gotten exactly what he wanted … not to go into detail about something he didn't want Dean to know about.

Sam didn't use this method of manipulative distraction often. And he only ever implemented it when what Sam was hiding from his brother was especially painful, extremely embarrassing or too raw emotionally for Sam to reveal to his over protective older sibling.

Dean didn't become wise to this type of manipulation from Sam until April 16 1997, Phoenix, Arizona and that was when Sam's seemingly out of character episodes of explosive and defensive anger suddenly made sense to Dean in a horrifying way.

Dean had been ordered to help out another hunter with their hunt, meaning that Dean had to leave his fourteen-year-old brother by himself for two days, but he was reassured by the fact that their Dad had finished his hunt and would be joining the youngest Winchester in two days. But now, Dean found himself racing back to his brother two weeks after he had left, after getting a panicked call from Sam who was becoming extremely worried and concerned because their Dad hadn't made it back when he said he would and now he was two weeks late.

Sam had tried to call his Dad multiple times and had left numerous messages, but Sam hadn't heard anything from the old man and now the poor kid was going out of his mind with worry, thinking that their Dad was in trouble, or worse, because their Dad should have touched base with Sam by now, even if it was to say that he had been delayed.

But Dean knew his Dad. And he knew that it wasn't an issue for the old man to disappear for _weeks_ at a time without keeping contact with anyone, so he wasn't too worried about his Dad's seemingly little disappearing act.

Dean may have not been worried about Dad like Sam seemed to be, but he was furious because he assured Dean – had _promised_ him – that Sam would only be alone for two days tops and it had been _two God damned weeks_ since Sam had been left by himself.

Dean knew that his brother was more than capable of looking after himself, and normally Sam being alone for two weeks wouldn't cause Dean's heart to pound in fear and panic, but the motel where Sam was currently occupied, wasn't exactly in the most respectable part of town. Plus, it didn't help matters at the uneasy, weird vibes Dean had gotten from the three men who taken up permanent residence at the same motel where the siblings had been staying before Dean had been called away.

Dean couldn't count the number of times he had caught those men checking out his geeky little brother and he just _knew_, on a gut level, that those guys were bad news.

Dean hadn't wanted to leave his kid brother there for even two days by himself, but Dad's orders were Dad's orders and Dean better not think about disobeying them or _both_ brothers would suffer the consequences when John returned.

Dean had tried to convince his father to let him stay until John arrived, but John had flat out refused Dean's compromise and had told Dean that he had to stop babying Sam. How could Sam learn to be a hunter if Dean kept protecting him and babying him?

Dean hadn't wanted to get into the same argument he and his father had been having for the last two years now, and he knew that John wouldn't take Dean's concerns over those shady men seriously, so Dean had relinquished to his Dad's orders, but not before he had taken some precautionary measures of his own.

When Dean was about to depart, he'd made a point to take Sam with him, letting those men see that _both_ brothers had packed up their gears and were departing. Dean had wanted to take Sam to a completely different motel altogether, but he knew that his Dad would get extremely pissed if he arrived at the motel and his youngest son wasn't there. So, after driving around for a couple of hours, Dean had doubled back to the motel and had rented a different room for Sam –well away from those dodgy as hell men – confident that Sam could keep his nose clean for two days and thinking that they had successfully tricked those men into thinking Sam had gone with him when Dean hadn't detected any sign of them at the motel what so ever.

But obviously Dean had been wrong. Those men had come back and Dean knew that Sammy was in danger.

With a cold, gnawing, dark feeling clawing in the pit of his stomach, Dean had high-tailed it back to Phoenix, Arizona, praying that his little brother was safe and was making as small of a target as possible so that no one would notice him – just like their Dad had taught them; behave; don't cause any trouble; don't talk to strangers and don't attract any undue attention onto yourself – but Dean had a sick feeling inside of him. He knew those men had _looked_ at his brother in a not so subtle interested way. And if they knew that Sam was all by himself …

Dean had gritted his teeth, shutting those thoughts down as he urged the Impala to go faster.

Sam hadn't sounded like he was in any trouble, just that he was worried about their absentee father. But that did little to lessen Dean's worry because even though Sam's voice didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, Dean knew this kid better than he knew himself, and he could hear the undercurrents of nervousness and fear within his little brother's voice.

Even if Dean hadn't gotten weird vibes from those men, that tone in his little brother's voice would have Dean dropping everything and hurrying to his brother's side as fast as he could.

Thankfully, Dean had only been a couple of hours away from Sam, and it was clear to Dean when he entered the motel room that he had interrupted something, arriving just in time to prevent those perverts from hurting his brother any more than they already had.

Dean had made quick work of untying his shaking, bruised and bloodied half-naked kid brother from the bed, trying not to show his rage when he noticed cigarette burns on the insides of the boy's thighs, trying to calm his clearly traumatized and in shock sibling down enough so that Dean could get the full truth as to what had actually transpired here.

Eventually, Sam calmed down enough to fill in the blanks for his brother, and what Dean learned sent his already over protectiveness into lethal rage, vowing vengeance and the great pleasure he would take in fucking those sons of bitches up.

At Dean's persistence, he learned that nothing sexual had happened – although there had been lots of lewd remarks and promises of all of the sexual plans they had in store for the frightened teen – and most of the bruises and blood upon his baby brother's body had occurred while the three (soon to be dead assholes) had attacked Sam in an effort to subdue him and tie him to the bed.

Dean had been reassured that those sick fucks hadn't had a chance to follow through on any of the lewd remarks or dark promises of things to come – having been scared off when the distinctive rumble of the Impala was heard – but Dean could see something in Sam's hazel eyes that he didn't like and Dean had decided to push further for answers.

Sam had instantly exploded at Dean in defensive anger and the two of them had gotten into a massive argument. Just as Dean was about to storm out the door to get a few minutes of air, Sam had launched himself at Dean, throwing his arms around Dean's waist, holding on for all he was worth, apologizing profusely as his body shook, begging Dean not to go and leave him alone again.

Yeah, as if Dean was actually going to _leave_ his brother when he'd just been attacked! The kid should damn well know better than that.

Shocked and bewildered by his little brother's unusual behaviour, and after he had coached his brother out of a near full-blown panic attack, Dean learned why Sam had tried to distract him with anger, why Sam didn't want Dean to push anymore on this particular subject.

This wasn't the first time these bastards had attacked Sam. And the first time had been so much worse than Dean could have imagined. They had manipulated and blackmailed a fourteen-year-old kid to provide them with sexual favours, while they … sexually assaulted _his baby brother_ and if Sam didn't do what they said or if he ever told anyone what had happened, they would call child services and have Sam removed from his family forever.

That was the first time Dean had felt the cold, dark rage that was threatening to consume him whole. But Dean had held it back while he soothed his deeply ashamed younger brother, reassuring Sam that he had nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about, he had done nothing wrong, until Sam had cried himself into an uneasy sleep before Dean had given into the cold, dark rage.

Dean had tracked those three pieces of scum down, leaving his exhausted, slumbering, emotionally wrecked kid brother in the Impala, while Dean had killed them all; no guilt, no remorse, knowing that they deserved so much more than death, but Dean hadn't had the time to make them suffer because he'd had a hurting and traumatized sibling to get back to.

That had been the first time Dean had deliberately killed an actual person in cold blood and Dean didn't regret that decision, he only wished he could have made those bastards suffer more for what they had put his brother through. He may not have been able to take away his brother's pain or his nightmares, but he could at least do this one thing for Sam; he could at least provide Sam with a sense of security and safety by making sure those sons of bitches could _never_ hurt his Sammy again.

Sam wasn't stupid. Even at fourteen, he was too damn clever for his own good. He'd known what Dean had done, that he had killed those men and had felt both relieved and terrified for his brother.

It wasn't until Bobby Singer showed up to help Dean dispose of the bodies that Sam had finally began to calm down from his almost hysterical worry that his big brother was going to get caught and thrown in jail, leaving Sam all alone in the world.

Bobby, God bless him, hadn't even balked at the idea of helping Dean get rid of the three bodies, covering up the crime Dean had committed.

All Dean had told him was that these sons of bitches had hurt Sammy and that was all of an explanation Bobby had needed. Although, he did suggest that the two brothers come to his house to avoid any suspicion or repercussions that may arrive – even though nobody had ever found those bodies, and Dean knew that nobody ever would – but Dean suspected that Bobby wanted to also keep an eye on the two Winchester brothers because he cared about his favourite idjits and hadn't wanted either of them being by themselves after what had happened.

Even though John had stricken forbidden Dean from contacting Bobby because the two older hunters had had a falling out, Dean had readily agreed to go to Bobby's, knowing that Sam would need somewhere safe, stable and with a calm environment in order to get a handle on his ordeal.

Much to his Dad's disgust, Dean hadn't returned to John's side until another two weeks had passed, once Sam was able to sleep for more than three hours at a time without waking up in sweat and screaming in terror.

The last thing Dean needed or wanted to do was to explain Sam's suddenly violent nightmares to John Winchester because he knew his Dad's reaction would be to tell Sam to toughen up and get over it, especially since Dean had already neutralized the threat to his youngest son.

John wasn't the most sensitive person around and even though his heart may be in the right place and his intentions pure, he would only have made Sam feel worse than he already did.

All Dean had told their father was that Sam had been sick. And when John had questioned Dean about the old bruises that were starting to heal on both of his sons, Dean had said that it was handled and wouldn't be a problem.

Thankfully, John had been satisfied with Dean's flimsy explanation and had left it at that … after giving Dean one hell of a stern lecture about involving Bobby Singer when John had specifically ordered Dean _not_ to contact Bobby for any reason what so ever.

That was the first time Dean realized Sam's ploy for using anger in order to distract and divert Dean's attention away from something Sam didn't want to discuss or didn't want Dean to ever know about. And ever since then, Dean had become extremely nervous, worried and apprehensive when Sam would employ that particular tactic in order to avoid talking about a particular topic.

So, the fact that Sam was reverting to that defensive anger, to distract Dean from the subject at hand, proved to Dean that something more had happened with those vampires than what his brother had led him to believe.

And that made Dean feel more uneasy and unsettled than before.

Because when his brother deliberately hid things from Dean, nine times out of ten, it would send Dean's protective fury into overdrive with a speed and ferocity that would consume Dean completely and wouldn't abate until Dean had exacted his revenge on the son of a bitch who had hurt his baby brother.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied abuse of a minor

**Author's Note:** Umm … this chapter kind of got away from me. Sorry. Not really feeling too good about this chapter, didn't come out at all how I wanted it to, but next chapter we'll be back on track with Sam's confession.

Hopefully someone enjoys this chapter.

**Special Thanks: **to **Pie Love Luci**, thanks for all of your support and kind words.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**CHAPTER NINE**

Sam regretted his sharp outburst as soon as it had left his mouth. He wasn't angry with Dean. He was more humiliated and embarrassed than anything else because Sam should never have let his guard down. He should never have let them get the upper hand on him.

But …

Sam Winchester had never learned things the easy way. He had been too cocky and self-confident for his own good. And maybe, if he was being completely honest with himself, maybe he just hadn't cared what happened to him anymore. Maybe he'd been tired of continually breaking promises to his older brother, of not being able to save Dean when Dean had _always_ been able to save Sam from his fate.

Maybe Sam had grown so tired of being a constant failure, who couldn't even save his brother from Purgatory when Dean had managed to bring Sam back from death itself, that Sam hadn't really cared if he lived or died anymore.

If he couldn't save Dean, then what the hell was the point of anything?

"Sammy?" Dean inquired tentatively, uncertain of how to proceed from here. He didn't want to fight with his brother. But he wasn't quite sure what would or wouldn't set off his irritably, high-strung sibling.

"Hey, c'mon man, I don't want to fight with you here. I'm sorry if …" Dean paused, hesitating when Sam shook off the hand Dean had placed upon his younger brother's left arm, Sam's expressive hazel eyes falling behind the curtain of hair as Sam deliberately avoided looking at Dean, his body tense and on edge as if he expected Dean to explode with anger right now.

Instead, Dean let out a long, low sigh and tried again. "Of _course,_ being beaten and drugged by six blood thirsty vampires is bad. I didn't mean to imply that it wasn't. I just … I don't know what to do here man." Dean threw up his hands in helpless frustration, hating the fact that he didn't know what would calm his brother down.

Did he need heart-felt words, physical touches or did he just need his own space, to be left by himself for a few minutes?

Not knowing how to help his brother and what he needed was breaking down Dean's emotional barriers faster than being tortured by the master torturer of Hell himself, Alastair. Dean had _always_ known what Sammy needed. Sometimes he even knew what his brother needed before Sam was even aware of it himself.

So, the fact that Dean was now floundering in hesitation, uncertainty and feeling extremely vulnerable in his inability to help his brother, proved to Dean that the brothers still had a long way to go to mend their fractured brotherhood, to be as close and in sync with each other as they had once been.

They had come a long way since Gabriel had zapped Sam into his own weirdo-alternate-Hell world. They had slowly begun to mend that rift that had seemed almost impossible to mend. And Dean hadn't felt this close to his brother in years, than he did right now. But … they still had a long way to go.

Dean ran a critical eye over his younger brother, recognizing the tell-tale signs of Sam beginning to close himself off, to distance himself, to push Dean away and Dean decided he'd suddenly had enough of this.

He'd had enough of treading lightly, trying so hard _not_ to offend his brother or to make him even more upset, but Sam hadn't responded to that at all – to Dean being a little too considerate and compassionate. Instead, here Sam was, closing in on himself, totally at breaking point now. And if Dean didn't do something drastic soon, then he knew that Sam would shut down completely. And that was _never_ a good thing for Sam to do.

It was time to stop doubting himself and just … act. This was _Sammy_. And no matter how far the gulf between the two brothers had widened, there was one thing that would never change; Dean's ability to know exactly what his brother needed.

Dean looked at his quickly withdrawing, despondent sibling, instinctively knowing that anger and demanding for Sam to tell him everything _now_, wouldn't work. Dean had to be a little more subtle here, and maybe some honesty of his own wouldn't go astray either. It might even help Sam to open up and to relax … even just a fraction.

"You know, whenever you get like this … deliberately wanting to start a fight with me to avoid telling me things it's because something … bad happened to you. And the first thing that always crosses my mind when you get like this is Phoenix, Arizona."

Dean noticed Sam cringe visibly at that painful reminder, a small frown of confusion upon his brow before Sam looked up at Dean, true bewilderment, pain and anguish in those big puppy-dog eyes and Dean knew that he had gotten his brother's attention.

Since Sam had started this confession, he had tried his hardest to keep his brimming emotions at bay, but now Dean could see the true extent of emotional pain within the depths of those hazel eyes that had seen too much and known too much turmoil, pain, blood, death and destruction.

"Why?" Sam's voice shook, tilting his head slightly and Dean could see that the kid genuinely wanted to know the answer to that question.

That was so typical of his geeky big-hearted younger brother. Whenever Sam had gotten hurt or suffered emotionally, he didn't want to talk about it; but as soon as Sam sensed or heard pain or anguish in his older brother, then the kid would have quite happily talked about it all night long, dissecting it with a fine-tooth comb and analysing it with every possible perspective that he could, while offering up solutions and suggestions on what might help his hurting older brother … He _would_ have done that, if Dean had let him, of course.

The startling truth of the matter was that Sam didn't give a rats ass about his own inner turmoil or emotional pain, but he couldn't stand for his big brother to carry even one ounce of pain – physically or emotionally, real or imagined – and would do whatever he could to help Dean unload his never ending burdens of guilt, remorse and regrets.

Sam didn't give a shit if he drowned in his own churning emotions of guilt because he deserved it. But Dean … Dean was better than him as far as Sam was concerned. He had done _nothing_ in his life to feel guilty about. Even when things went sideways and they lost people close to them, Sam never blamed Dean for that because Dean was blameless.

Sam was the problem. He was the one with the curse and who kept screwing up. And even though he knew that Dean would be better off without him, Sam just _couldn't_ make that fateful decision to walk away from his brother forever because Dean … Dean had _always_ believed in him and Sam knew how much it would hurt his brother if Sam was to walk away. Sam would never hurt his brother again – not for _anything_ – and that's why Sam stayed instead of leaving, instead of setting his brother free.

Dean let out a soft, humourless chuckle. "Because that's when I realized that my geeky kid brother was trying to distract me, manipulating me to anger so that I would become more focused on something else and would forget about what we were talking about.

That was when it hit me that I had failed you, that I had neglected in my big brother duties in a big way. Because, if I had allowed those men to hurt you like they did, then what else had I missed? What else were you hiding from me? What else were you trying to protect me from knowing?"

Sam swallowed hard, tears immediately springing into his eyes in the face of his brother's low mournful, regretful tone. "Dean, that wasn't your fault." He declared passionately. "You didn't know that –"

"I left you there Sammy," Dean interrupted, not accepting his brother's instant forgiveness. Not for this matter. He would never forgive himself or accept Sam's forgiveness for that. "You were just a kid and I left you alone, unprotected. I _knew_ those guys were trouble and I still … I left you there all alone."

"Dean," Sam didn't know if he was trying to plead for his brother to stop looking at him with that broken look of defeated failure or if he was trying to deny his brother's words, deny his brother's blame, because not once had Sam ever thought that Dean was responsible for what had happened with those men, all of those years ago.

Yes, what Sam had endured at the hands of those men had been … bad. And it had taken him a long time – _years_ – to come to grips with what had been done to him and what he had been forced to do to them. It had taken a long time for those feelings of shame, humiliation and guilt to lessen to such a degree that Sam didn't feel as if he was drowning in a deep dark pit of despair, believing that he had deserved what they had done to him because Sam had … allowed it to happen.

If only he had fought harder. If only he had left as soon as those men returned to the motel. If only he had called Dean earlier and begged for Dean to come back before those men had realized that Sam was back and he was alone. If only he had …

Sam had spent _years_ thinking he was responsible and not worthy of anyone's love – not even his Dad's or his brother's – that he didn't deserve kindness or Dean's unfaltering and unwavering loyalty, devotion and affection.

But Dean had never stopped lavishing Sam with love, Dean had never treated Sam any differently than before and Dean had never blamed Sam for what had happened; he'd never said that Sam had fucked up or that Sam had deserved what those men had done because Sam hadn't taken the proper precautions or implemented the training their Dad had drummed into them from an early age on how to protect yourself, and defend against any and all attackers.

Slowly, Sam had come to accept that if someone like Dean – who was a good guy with a heart so big that Sam was surprised Dean didn't get swallowed up by it; a good guy who was a hero, saving strangers lives by hunting down and getting rid of the monsters that plagued them – could still hold affection and love for him, then maybe Sam was worth it after all. Maybe Sam could cut himself some slack and learn to … well, maybe not _love_ himself, but at least learn to _like_ himself a little.

Sam had never blamed Dean for what happened. Dean had come back. Dean had saved him. Dean had _killed_ those men for _him_, even when Sam didn't deserve that kind of dedication, that kind of loyalty.

Sam had turned his beloved brother into a murderer all because he had failed to protect himself properly; he had forgotten to lock up; he had left a window open; he had failed to _sense_ the danger he was in when he'd walked into that motel room, not knowing that those men were already inside, lying in wait for him.

Dean shouldn't feel guilty over what had happened. He shouldn't feel guilty out of a misguided sense of having failed Sam.

Dean had _killed people for him_.

Dean shouldn't feel guilt. But what he should feel is horror, disgust and condemnation toward his younger brother because Sam had turned him into a killer.

But Dean had never blamed Sam; he hadn't even lectured Sam about walking into such an obvious trap when he should have known better. Instead, Dean had wrapped Sam up in his big brother protectiveness and had kept Sam close and safe, looking after him when the nightmares grew too much for him to handle, protecting him from their father's questions and his wrath.

After that incident, Dean had become quiet. He had become more determined, more focused. He had devoted more time to Sam, asking more questions about Sam's personal, school life, hanging out and goofing off while teaching Sam new manoeuvres which would enable Sam to easily protect and defend against attacks if either their Dad or Dean wasn't around to help.

Dean was the best brother in the world. Even when everything had turned to crap around them and between them as disasters, miscommunication and others – both humans and supernatural beings – had tried to get in between them, had tried to break them apart, had tried to use them against each other, Dean had _always_ been by his side. Dean had always protected him, believed in him and trusted him when no one else did … even when Sam doubted himself, Dean never had.

And for that … Sam was beyond grateful, beyond thankful. He was also well aware that if Dean hadn't been by his side all of his life, if Dean hadn't clung tight and held onto his one true core belief that family came first, _before_ everything else, Sam knew he wouldn't be alive today because he would have given into the darkness and Azazel's dark destiny for him a long time ago. Sam had only fought as hard as he did and for as long as he had because of Dean.

"Dean," Sam placed a hand on top of Dean's bowed head. "You saved me Dean." Sam's voice was strong with conviction, pride and awe. "Even though I didn't ask you to, you came back. Even before I knew I would need you; _you knew_ and you came back and you saved me Dean. Even though I –" Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, seeing his brother's eyes meet his own, silently encouraging Sam to continue when he heard the hesitation in Sam's voice.

"Even though I forced your hand and turned you into a killer, you never got mad with me or hated me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean growled, instantly contradicting Sam's assessment. "You didn't turn me into a killer."

"Didn't I?" Sam shot back disbelievingly. "You killed those men _for me_ Dean, because I was too careless, because I couldn't even protect myself for two damn weeks and because of that, because of my inability to keep myself safe, I turned you into a killer."

Dean frowned darkly at his brother's words as he grabbed Sam by the shoulders, pulling Sam toward him, relieved when Sam didn't shake him off or pull away from him this time, mouth opening in protest, ready to give his little brother the biggest lecture in his life – because how the hell could Sam even _think_ any of that crap? – when he realized that this was another crafty tactic Sam would use when he was extremely desperate and didn't want Dean to find out what he was hiding … diversion.

This tactic was a lot harder for Dean to recognize and ignore than deliberately baiting Dean with anger because Dean never liked hearing that defeated, dejected tone in his little brother's voice, so it was second nature for Dean to stop interrogating Sam, to stop pushing for answers and to immediately go into convincing his brother that he wasn't to blame, desperately trying to ease his little brother's unfounded guilt.

It was clever to use Dean's emotions against him. Although, Dean highly doubted that Sam knew what he was doing, but Dean did. And even though it may be a tactic to divert the older Winchester's attention, Dean couldn't, in good conscience, let his kid brother think that _he_ had turned Dean into a killer.

"Sammy, that's crap and you know it." Dean declared hotly, his steady gaze holding Sam's own gaze. "_I_ was the one who decided to kill those sick fucks. You didn't put the gun in my hand and you definitely didn't force my hand in the matter."

Dean paused, making sure he had his brother's complete attention before he continued. "Even if you hadn't told me what they did that day and waited until now to tell me, I would have _still_ hunted those bastards down and killed them." Dean couldn't help but smile softly at Sam's look of astonishment, blinking at him in dumbfounded astonishment.

"Because no matter what Sammy, you are still my kid brother. And I don't care if it happened yesterday, today or years ago, I will _still_ rip out the lungs of any son of a bitch who _dares_ to lay a hand on _my_ baby brother. And if that means I have to kill a couple of pieces of scum, who are barely human to begin with, along the way, then that's what I will do. That's what I will _always_ do. Are we clear?"

Dean held Sam's gaze for several long seconds after Sam gave Dean an affirmative nod, satisfied that his little brother had gotten Dean's message loud and clear.

"Good." Dean said, releasing his hold on Sam before settling back beside his brother once more. "Now, are we done rehashing the traumas of our youth or do we need to talk about your first year at Stanford and that exchange student from Japan who became obsessed with you in a kind of creepy way?"

Sam gasped, shocked at having that thrown back in his face. "How the hell did you know about _that_? Never mind," Sam immediately dismissed when he got a look at Dean's smirk. "I don't think I want to know." He decided, noticing that this particular smirk Dean was sporting, usually meant that Sam was better off not knowing.

"Wait a minute, are you the reason he suddenly dropped out and disappeared half way through the year?" Sam eyed his older brother suspiciously, carefully. "Dean, please tell me you didn't kill him."

"Oh please," Dean scoffed. "I could have beaten that little twerp with _both_ arms behind my back. No, I didn't kill him. That damn kid started bawling and whimpering as soon as I showed him the large collection of weapons hidden in the Impala's trunk.

When I suggested that he would be better off going back home to Japan and leaving you the hell alone, he sobbed in agreement. When I said that if he ever mentioned me or tried to contact you again, I would track him down and kill him in his sleep … he was running away before I had even finished my first threat."

Dean laughed, remembering how ridiculous that guy had looked and how scared he had been when Dean had been "persuading" him to leave his little brother alone. "Even _you_ could have taken him out without even breaking a sweat. But I get why you didn't want to cause a scene at school." Dean shrugged indifferently. "If you had caused a scene, you would have gotten kicked out before you had a chance to make use of your fancy scholarship."

"I had it handled Dean," Sam huffed, not nearly as irritated as he pretended to be. Sam couldn't help the way his lips twisted into a grateful smile, a feeling of being loved completely and unconditionally surrounding him.

Because that was so typical of Dean.

Even though the brothers had fought and Dean had been extremely hurt when Sam had left for Stanford, that still hadn't stopped Dean from looking out for his pain in the ass little brother, for stepping in and handling the person who was giving his little brother grief. Sam had never been so thankful as he was now to have been privileged to have Dean Winchester as his big brother.

"Yeah, sure you did Samantha," Dean rolled his eyes suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed by his little brother's look of utter devotion and hero-worshiping. "You know Sammy," Dean coughed uncomfortably as he sought to get back to the topic at hand. "You have now used _two_ of your manipulative tactics in order to distract me and make me angry to avoid talking about what else those vampires did." He said, his tone light but stern at the same time, letting Sam know that no matter what did, this was one thing Dean wasn't about to drop or get distracted from.

Dean watched as Sam's teasing, playful smile disappeared, his posture instantly sagging dejectedly, that dark, haunted look re-entering his brother's eyes and Dean felt his heart skip a beat at his brother's reaction to being reminded about the six vampires who had beaten and drugged him while they took him to meet their father, the oldest monster who still remained on Earth today, the Alpha vampire.

Just what the hell had those bastards done to his little brother to have caused a reaction like this?

"Sammy," Dean started to place a hand upon Sam's shoulder, the junction into between his neck and shoulder, but stopped when Sam turned to glare at him warningly and Dean quickly snatched his hand back as if it had been scolded, surprised and extremely worried about his little brother's unusual behaviour.

Again, Dean's basic instinct was to retaliate with anger and _demand_ that Sam tell him what had happened, but Dean forced his basic instinct down, letting his big brother instincts take over, trusting that even if Dean the hunter didn't know how to handle this situation, then Dean the big brother, who was wise on all things _Sammy_, would.

"Sam, I … I don't want to dredge all of this up and make you relive it all over again, but dude … Sammy, I'm your _brother_. You can tell me _anything_. You know that, right?"

Sam continued to glower at Dean, hoping to intimidate Dean into silence, to stop him from asking any more questions, especially about those vampires. Because, even just thinking about them, caused Sam's heart rate to accelerate rapidly, the palms of his hands to sweat, his stomach to knot and churn in both horror and dread, as his flight or fight responses kicked in.

Sam, who was known for being a hunter, who never went down without a fight was suddenly reduced to someone who wanted to run away and hide. Sam had to fight the urge not to run, to convince his body to stay put. He had to keep telling himself that he was safe, that Dean was with him, that he didn't have to run, he didn't have to run and hide because Dean would protect him.

Every time Sam _thought_ about those vampires, his first instinct was to flee. He _always_ wanted to flee. And the terrifying thing was … he didn't even know _why_.

Sam knew that some sort of torture session had happened. He knew that Dean's best buddy vampire friend and _brother_, had made Sam suffer excruciating pain. And he knew that something lasting and permanent had happened to him, that he had something on his skin to always remind him of that time with those six vampires, but no matter how hard Sam tried, he couldn't remember anything that had happened.

Even though Sam still woke up shaking and screaming, completely terrified out of his mind and fought his urge to _run_ … Sam still couldn't recall what had happened. And that scared Sam a lot more than he cared to admit.

Because if he was so terrified, so freaked out that he had blocked that whole encounter from his mind, locking it away in the deep recesses of his subconscious, then it begged the question of just what in the hell could be so _bad_ that Sam would willingly choose to forget it?

Sam had been to Hell. He'd been tortured by _both_ Michael and Lucifer. Surely whatever Benny had done to him … there's no way that it could have been worse than what he'd suffered in the cage, right?

"Sammy, you know that, right?"

Sam instinctively shied away from his brother's touch, feeling the hurt of his rejection radiating off of Dean in waves, but Sam couldn't stand to be touched by _anyone_ when he thought back on the year that his big brother had been trapped in Purgatory.

"Okay, I get Sam." Dean sighed in loud resignation. "Maybe … maybe I should give you some space and we can talk about it in the morning, okay?"

The helpless, desolation that flooded his big brother's voice, caused Sam to instantly snap back to reality, his guilt flaring back to life at the underlining hesitancy he could hear in his older brother's normally strong and confident voice.

Of _course,_ Sam knew that he could tell Dean anything. He knew that Dean would hear him out, free of the normal brotherly mocking and teasing, because Dean had never, and would never, mock or tease Sam unless it was something _both_ brothers could laugh about later.

Here, his normally brash, impatient and volatile older brother, who wasn't known for either his patience or calmness, was acting more patiently and calmly than anyone gave him credit for; while Sam was deliberately provoking and antagonizing his brother into a fight, distracting him with past issues or giving him the cold shoulder, acting more like a spoilt child packing a temper tantrum and taking it out on the person who meant the most to him, acting like a complete and utter asshole.

Damn it! What the hell was wrong with him? Sam had started this. Dean hadn't wanted to hear it, had told Sam that he didn't need to know and all was forgiven, but Sam had insisted … well, actually, _Gabriel_ had insisted.

But, regardless on what either brother wanted, Sam _had_ to tell Dean or else Gabriel would whisk his beloved older brother off into his own personal alternate Hell world.

Sam didn't have the luxury of pushing Dean away, of trying to distract his brother or glaring at his brother darkly, trying to intimidate him – yeah, as if Sam could actually intimidate his big brother. Dean was the master of dark, glowering if-looks-could-kill glares – or trying to provoke his older brother into anger.

He didn't have time to pout and act like a sulky teenager, deliberately striking out at his brother to hurt him so that Dean would back the hell off and leave him alone.

Sam didn't even realize that he had been trying to deliberately distract and cause a fight between them until Dean had mentioned it. And, of course Dean would know Sam's unconscious tells, habits, impulsive or unusual behaviour better than Sam did because his brother had spent his life looking after Sam.

Just like Sam knew that Dean's quick temper and gruff attitude usually portrayed Dean's worry and concern. Or, how Dean would lash out, take off to a bar to get drunk or isolate himself just to avoid talking about himself … or, God forbid, admit that he had been wrong or was scared about something.

Sam's continual silence must have convinced Dean that Sam actually did require space. And, like the awesome big brother he was, Dean was willing to give him whatever he needed because Dean's number one priority had always been Sam's happiness and well-being.

But, when Sam felt his brother shift, intending to widen to gap between the two brothers, Sam snapped back to attention, quickly grabbing onto his older brother's arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Dean, wait." Sam gasped, suddenly panicked at the thought of his older brother leaving when Sam felt so emotionally vulnerable. "Please don't go. I know I'm acting like a grade A asshole, but …" Sam bit his bottom lip, uncertainty and doubt surrounding him because would his brother still want him in his life when he learned the full truth? What if by revealing this to Dean, it ended up screwing up their relationship so badly that Dean didn't have a choice but to walk away?

It didn't matter, Sam scolded himself harshly. It didn't matter if Dean hated him after he knew the truth. Sam had to tell him the truth. He had to save his brother. No matter what it took or what it cost him, Sam would _not_ allow his brother to be sucked into his own alternate version of Hell because Sam had made a drunken mistake.

Sam gritted his teeth together before he met his big brother's worried and concerned gaze. "I'm sorry Dean," Sam murmured weakly, seeing Dean's eyes widening in surprise and quiet anger, Sam mistaking Dean's anger being directed at him.

Sam immediately lowered his eyes and removed his hand from Dean's arm. "Of course, I know that I can tell you anything. You're my big brother. You have never let me down and I will always trust you, no matter what. And, maybe you're right. Maybe I am deliberately trying to make you angry. But … that's only because I can't answer your question the way you want me to." Sam admitted in a low forlorn voice.

Dean resettled himself back beside his brother, so close that their shoulders were almost touching. Dean wanted Sam to know that he was here for him, that he would stick by Sam's side and back him one hundred percent, but he was reluctant to try and touch his brother just yet.

Something about the kid's posture, and the way Sam had folded in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible, revealed to Dean that his brother wouldn't appreciate touch of any kind just het.

The way Sam was being so meek and timid when just seconds ago Sam had looked ready to tear Dean's head off with his bare hands, caused Dean's internal big brother radar to go off the chart in an alarming way.

Sam had only acted like this a couple of times in his life and one of those times had been in Phoenix, Arizona.

Dean's eyes narrowed sharply as he ran a critical, calculating eye over his younger brother, suspicious about what exactly those vampires had done to his kid brother began to take shape in his mind in a horrible kind of clarity.

He had an awful feeling that beating and drugging his defenceless brother hadn't been all those vampires had been interested in doing.

"What exactly do you mean that you can't answer the question Sam." Dean asked gently, trying to keep the dark suspicious rage from entering his tone. The last thing he needed to do was to freak out his already freaked out little brother.

If Sam detected any sort of anger in his voice – no matter who it was directed at – Dean knew that in the state Sam was in, he would think that Dean was angry with him. And then Dean would have to spend the next few hours calming the kid down, reassuring him over and over, explaining to his emotionally distraught sibling that it wasn't him Dean was angry with.

So, Dean decided to take the calmer approach, trying to keep his fury on a short leash for his brother's sake. But, depending on what Sam revealed, Dean might be reacting to that anger, that was simmering just below the surface, sooner rather than later.

"All I want to know is what else those vampires did to you, and you can't answer the question?"

"No, I can't." Sam practically whispered, feeling his big brother bristling beside him. "It's not that I don't want to answer you Dean," Sam hurried on to explain. "I honestly don't know what else – if anything else – happened with those six vampires on our little field trip to visit with the Alpha."

Dean frowned, perplexed by his little brother's explanation. "Sammy, look at me," Dean commanded, needing to see Sam eyes to really gauge if Sam was trying to give him a BS story. "How can you not know what happened?" Dean asked as soon as Sam's eyes obediently rose to Dean's.

Sam let out a sad sigh, shrugging helplessly. "They kept me constantly drugged during the entire trip. I literally have three days of no memories what so ever. Whatever they gave me, if fucked with my head in a big way. But …"

"But what?" Dean gently encouraged his brother.

"I know that _something_ happened because, even now, just talking about it, I have this sudden urge to run away and hide. My palms are sweaty and clammy, there's a sick sensation twisting in my stomach, I'm trembling so badly that my teeth are starting to chatter, and no matter what I do, I can't stop. I am so terrified out of my mind Dean, but I don't know why."

Dean took one look at his brother's pinched brow, his checks shallow and sunken, the pallor of his skin a sickly off shade of white, his eyes wide with such helpless fear that it tore at Dean's heart, making him want to hunt down those vampire bastards and destroy them, because his proud and fiercely independent younger brother should _never_ look or sound like this … _ever_.

Sam's lower lip began to tremble violently, the haunted quality in Sam's voice making him sound as if he was a scared little kid, asking for his big brother to fix it, to make it go away.

God, if only he could. If only Dean could fix all of this for his little brother … he'd do it in a heartbeat. Instead, Dean took his trembling brother into his arms, trying to soothe and reassure him as much as Dean could. As pathetic as it was, comfort was all Dean could offer his trembling little brother at the moment. Revenge would come later.

Dean felt Sam tense at his touch, but then the kid melted into his embrace and before too long, Sam was sobbing bitterly within his brother's embrace.

"It's okay Sammy, let it all out buddy. It's not your fault, okay? Those sons of bitches roofied you so, of course you can't remember anything. But don't worry about it little brother, because I'm here now and I promise you that these vampires won't get away with what they did to you, okay?"

"I have hazy images sometimes," Sam revealed in a low, hesitant way. "Of teeth and b-blood and … pain." Sam let out a deep shuddering breath. "Lots of pain." Sam whispered fearfully, his eyes clouding over with something Dean had never seen before, but it sent of chill of dread up and down his spine regardless. "And whenever I try to remember what happened … I get sick to my stomach and an instant pounding in my head. I'm sorry Dean."

"It's okay kiddo, you don't have to be sorry." Dean couldn't help but wipe away a few wayward tears upon his brother's checks, the sight and the way he sounded was so reminiscent of when Sam was little and vulnerable, that Dean couldn't help responding accordingly by lowering his voice and gentling it in a way he hadn't done in years.

"Calm down buddy, I believe you, okay?" Dean was rubbing soothingly upon Sam's bunched up shoulders, hoping to loosen the knots he could feel gathering in his kid's shoulders, when his sharp gaze caught sight of Sam rubbing almost viciously at his left arm.

"We don't have to talk about that anymore, okay?" Dean offered his brother a reassuring smile. "That's it. Just calm down and …" Dean's words trailed off when Sam's incessant rubbing of his left arm turned alarmingly worse when Sam used his fingernails to _claw_ at his arm now.

"Hey, c'mon kiddo, don't do that." Dean reprimanded his brother gently. "You're going to hurt yourself." Dean automatically placed a hand over his brother's hand to stop Sam from ripping up his own arm.

Sam's hand stayed still under the weight of Dean's hand, but Dean could still feel the trapped hand trembling, fingers flexing in an unconscious effort to keep scratching at his arm.

"You want to tell me why you're doing that?" Dean asked, eyes flicking down to Sam's arm before returning back to Sam's face.

"Huh?" Sam blinked at Dean in confusion.

"Ever since you started talking about these vampires you've been rubbing at your left arm … slowly at first, but now you are literally trying to mutilate your own arm because of some phantom itch?" Dean patiently explained to his slightly out of it sibling. "You wanna tell me why you're doing that?" Dean questioned, shifting his gaze back down to his brother's arm.

Sam frowned, not quite understanding what it was Dean was asking him, but automatically followed his brother's gaze, eyes narrowing in shock when he noticed red, blotchy skin under his right hand, Dean's left hand over Sam's hand to still his movements.

Sam felt as if he had been sucker punched in the chest, leaving him winded and freezing in indecision because yes, he did know why he would be rubbing his arm when talking about those vampires; and no, he didn't want to tell Dean the reason he was doing it.

It made sense now why Dean wasn't letting go of this. Sam was injuring himself. And no matter how much his anti-emotional older brother didn't like to get into deep and meaningful conversations, the moment Dean noticed that Sam was hurt – either emotionally or physically – was the moment that Dean would initiate a deep heart to heart conversation so that he could get to the bottom of his little brother's distress, trying to understand how, where and why his brother had gotten hurt and how he could go about fixing it.

Without being consciously aware of it, Sam had ripped his arm out of his brother's gentle grip, his own hand clenched into a fist to stop his previous actions, blushing deeply, slightly embarrassed at how much he was acting like a frightened child as he glanced at his arm hatefully, feeling betrayed by his own body for providing his eagle eyed older brother with information he would rather not get into right now.

"Sammy?"

Oh well, even though Sam didn't want to tell Dean about it, the damage had already been done because there was no way in hell his older brother would be letting this go anytime soon.

Sam had no choice but to tell Dean the truth. He was going to learn about this eventually, Sam just wasn't expecting it to come up this soon in his confession. Sam would have to tell Dean about the magical brand and the spell that had turned this into a life-time curse because of the blood that was infused, combined with the brand itself, but Sam hadn't wanted to get this complicated this soon.

"Sam?"

No matter which way Sam spun this, he knew that Dean would still be pissed because this … it was a prelude of all of the torture to come. Only problem was, Sam didn't even know of the brand's existence until he was deeply caught in Benny's carefully crafted web, when the remaining vampires had decided to reactivate the magical-brand-curse.

All of the hazy and disjointed images Sam had had of the days spent in that van with those vampires, Sam had been able to brush them off as his overactive imagination at work.

It wasn't until much later that Sam finally realized that those disjointed, confusing images were actually memories trying to burst through his subconscious, but, by then, it was much too late to be of any help to the youngest Winchester.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** I have no knowledge of spells, curses, witchcraft, the occult or voodoo. I am completely using my own imagination and sorry if I offend anyone who practices in any of these things.

There's a lot of explanation about the curse and the brand, so I hoped I explained that so that everyone understands what I meant.

Again, warnings about how Benny is not portrayed in a good way in this story. So, if you are a Benny fan, maybe you shouldn't be reading this because it's only going to get worse from here on out with his character.

I guess, nobody really liked my last chapter either. Sorry about that. But hopefully this one will get you all interested again.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**CHAPTER TEN**

"Sam!

Sam jumped at his brother's sharp tone and the feel of a hand upon his check as he looked up to meet the anxious green eyes of his concerned older sibling.

"S-sorry," Sam mumbled, lowering his eyes briefly before he met his brother's gaze once more.

Dean waved Sam's apology away, just pleased to be able to get his brother's attention back in the here and now. With how glazed over Sam's eyes had become, Dean had feared that maybe his little brother had retreated back into himself so deep that Dean hadn't been certain if he could reach his brother, let alone bring him out of it.

Thankfully though, this hadn't been the start of Sam's big breakdown that Dean knew was coming, but just a brief preview of what was to come once Sam's walls eventually crumbled around him.

"I don't know exactly how long I was with those vampires, before they took me to the Alpha. I _think_ it was about three days." Sam said so softly that Dean had to strain to hear him. "But …" Sam turned his left arm over, gently tracing over the magical brand that remained upon his arm today, but only Sam could see.

The magical-brand-curse was never visible when it wasn't activated and it also managed to conceal all of the injuries Sam had obtained when the curse was in effect.

This magical brand concealed all of the scars Sam had gotten from his six months of captivity, as well as the scars he had caused himself when he had tried to cut the damn brand from his own arm, which was what had ultimately lead to him being thrown into the psychiatric ward of the nearest hospital.

He hadn't realized that only he could see it. He had assumed that everyone could see it. He had thought that if people could see it, then it could be used against him and he would become their willing, obedient slave all over again. Sam never wanted that to happen ever again, to be that vulnerable and at the mercy of another … so, he'd tried to hack the brand off, tried to take back some of the control that he had lost.

It was only when Sam had been admitted to the psychiatric hospital that he realized nobody else could see it but him. And that knowledge had made Sam feel safer than he had felt in months. Because if nobody could see it, then nobody could use it against him.

The doctors had contributed Sam's lack of scars upon his arm to the expertise and brilliant stitching he had received at the hospital, but even now, Sam could see the jagged and uneven scars that littered his arm at his attempt to get rid of the magical brand once and for all.

It was both a blessing and a curse that Dean couldn't see the scars that covered the entire length of Sam's body during his six months captivity at the hands of those vampires, because Dean had brought that BS story of Sam settling down for normal while he left his big brother to rot in Purgatory.

Yeah, as if Sam would ever let that happen!

Dean had been hurt. That was the only reason why he had brought that whole hitting a dog, meeting a girl and settling down for normal crap … and Sam still wasn't sure _where_ the hell he had come up with that cover story.

Of all of the things he could have told his brother, he told him _that_? He could have told Dean the truth about Sam having looked for him at least, but to blatantly lie with something that was clearly designed to cause the maximum amount of hurt to his older brother … would Sam have even thought up something like that on his own?

Or had someone planted that into his mind? Just like they altered his thinking into not noticing the magical-brand-curse while he had been a guest of the Alpha's, until it was activated again, and after that, he would always be able to see the brand and the injuries he had accumulated because of it.

Hmm. It was definitely worth considering. And if the sudden sharp pounding in his head was anything to go by, then Sam knew he was a lot closer to the truth than _he_ wanted Sam to be.

Someone had activated the magical-brand-curse and used it to "convince" Sam to tell Dean that fractured lie about settling down for his apple pie normal life, and then he was forced to _forget_ who had the audacity to plant that painful lie into his mind.

Sam gritted his teeth together in anger, not even having to wonder _who_ would force Sam into telling Dean such an obvious lie, because he already knew the truth and he already knew who would do that.

Benny.

That son of a bitch!

Somehow, he must have gotten to Sam before Sam had reunited with Dean and put that little "suggestion" into the youngest Winchester's mind.

Sam was well aware that it was Benny who had talked Sam out of telling Dean the truth when Sam had wanted to come clean to Dean after seeing the hurt that lie was causing his older brother.

But before he could, Benny was there, telling Sam that Dean would hate him, resent him and be so ashamed that the kid he had given his life for, the kid he had raised, had turned out to be nothing but a blood hoar junkie.

Sam could distinctly remember Benny telling him those things, the suggestions he made, making complete sense to Sam, but Benny hadn't been able to cover his tracks that time; he hadn't been able to force Sam to forget that Benny had been there with him, because he had been interrupted by Dean arriving back earlier than expected.

And Benny, not wanting Dean to catch the vampire fraternizing with his younger brother because that would immediately make Dean suspicious and Benny did _not_ want that to happen, had slunk off into the night like the fucking coward he was.

The stabbing pain in Sam's head became increasingly worse the more Sam tried to fill in all of the blank spots in his memory. And he knew that if he didn't back off from this train of thought right now, that Sam would be in agony, puking his guts out before falling into an unconscious heap upon the ground in less than ten minutes from now.

Fuck Benny!

Even now, beyond the grave, he was _still_ dictating Sam's life.

With an inward, frustrated growl, Sam quickly diverted his thoughts from Benny and back to the crisis at hand before Dean noticed that Sam was in pain. Although, how the hell Sam was supposed to continue this confession without the physical symptoms Been had planted in Sam's mind to stop Sam from learning too much from flaring up, Sam wasn't sure how to combat that yet. But he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

As if Benny hadn't fucked with his life enough as it was!

Sam could feel all of the feelings of shame, disgust and self-loathing come flooding back from the deep recesses of his mind, where Sam had worked bloody hard all of these years to keep them hidden and out of sight from his older brother, at the thought that he had been screwed all over again by this vampire, who had stolen his dignity, his pride, his God damned freedom, not to mention that he had almost stolen the one person from Sam, who was his entire world, his entire life, his big brother.

As if Sam hadn't endured enough. As if he hadn't been humiliated enough. He'd been reduced to a snivelling drug addict who had done whatever it took to escape the reality of his life – even willingly surrendering himself to the drug induced haze – while in the custody of those cruel, heartless vampires, who had become addicted to his blood and were acting on _Benny's_ orders, rather than the Alpha's orders.

Sam felt the bile rise in his throat, could feel his own body revolting against him, because not only had Benny and his minion vampires taken sadistic pleasure in raping Sam's body repeatedly, in every embarrassing way and position they could think of, but now Benny was effectively raping his mind as well. And Sam … he didn't know if he had the strength to go through another Benny saga.

But the feel of a calloused hand cupping the side of his face, words that made no sense to Sam at the moment, filtered through the numbness of his mind. And as much as Sam wanted to retreat from the touch, and the voice, Sam couldn't ignore the worry and fear he could hear in that familiar tone and instinct, more than anything else, had Sam responding and returning from his inner world and into the light once more.

"I'm here Dean," Sam whispered, offering Dean a reassuring smile, even though it trembled upon his lips, wanting nothing more than to take away the stark terror he could see within his beloved brother's green eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm back now."

Dean closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "What the hell happened Sammy? The way you blanked out on me like that … and then, when you grabbed your head, moaning in pain … just … what the hell was that?" Dean couldn't stop the shake in his voice, couldn't stop his worry and fear bleeding through, because Dean had never been so scared before in his life.

Seeing Sam like that, unresponsive, devoid of any emotion what so ever, his body slumping as if he didn't have any strength of his own to hold his own weight up, had caused Dean to become panicked in a way he hadn't felt in months … not since Sam's rapidly cooling body had started seizing and Dean didn't know what to do to stop it or how to fix it, had Dean felt this same mind numbing terror.

Sam sighed loudly. "That may be a bit harder and more complicated to explain."

"Try," Dean ordered, his own body still shaking with the fear he'd felt just moments ago.

Sam looked at his brother, in weary resignation as he nodded almost submissively. "It's all to do with this … magical brand upon my arm." Sam tapped his left arm, his voice soft and hesitant. "I wasn't lying Dean, about not remembering what happened with those vampires on our way to meet with the Alpha.

But … the lead vampire, _he_ was the one who branded this magical brand onto my arm. _He_ was the one who infused the brand with blood, which changed the simple spell that was only supposed to last for a week at the most, into a curse that would last for a life-time."

Sam paused when he heard a sharp gasp from beside him, gentle hands quickly pulling Sam's arm toward him so that Dean could inspect the damage for himself.

Sam shook his head, a soft smile upon his lips. Trust his over protective brother to hear that Sam had suffered an injury and wanted to inspect it for himself, Sam scoffed fondly.

"What you saw just now," Sam continued on before his brother could think of fifty million questions to ask him. "It's a … residue conditioning, I guess you could call it. Someone doesn't want me to remember things or to put everything together.

So, when I get close to the truth or it starts to make sense, I am essentially blocked from my own mind and I'm forced to retreat or back off or I just fall into an unconscious heap.

He used my own body against me, to keep his secrets safe, to keep his precious integrity intact. But, I'm better now at getting around those physical blocks he put up. I'm better at knowing how far to push before I eventually black out."

Dean continued to gently prod at Sam's arm checking for any inconsistences, any unusual blemishes or lumps that shouldn't be there, frowning in confusion when his careful inspection produced nothing detectable at all.

Was Sam pulling his leg here?

If Sam had been _branded_, then shouldn't there be some kind of sign of its existence? A scar or an imprint? Something ….

"You can't see it Dean," Sam explained softly, almost as if he could sense his older brother's confusion and doubt. "I can see it. But other people can only see it when it's … activated." Sam shifted uneasily, becoming extremely uncomfortable now at Dean's continual silence.

"I know how crazy this sounds Dean, believe me, I know." Sam laughed nervously. "Who ever heard of vampires using magic and dabbling in the arts of spells and curses, right? But this particular vampire, he had grown up in the life. His grandmother practiced voodoo and passed it onto him.

So, when he was turned by his maker – some old man, I'm not really too clear on that – he had all the time in the world to practice his magical skills. And it wasn't just voodoo either, he had the time and the commitment to practice any and all magics out there, including witchcraft and the occult … he even managed to create his own spells and … curses."

Hysterical laughter bubbled up and exploded out of Sam before he could stop it. "I didn't know any of this then. But when I eventually realized what exactly this was on my arm, I picked that bastard's life apart, searching for any kind of weaknesses I could exploit or use against him.

This," Sam gestured erratically at his left arm still held in Dean's gentle grip, feeling as if he was starting to lose his mind but unable to stop his babbling now. "This brand here, is one of his own creations, a masterpiece that he cooked up especially for me. I don't think he even realized how potent it would be himself before –"

Sam's rambling halted abruptly when Dean placed a hand in the centre of his brother's chest in the calming, soothing gesture which would stop Sam in his tracks and calm him faster than any grade A medication or sedation could.

Dean watched his brother twist his hands together nervously, anxiously waiting for Dean's verdict, and Dean quickly put his other hand behind Sam's neck in his patented big brother comforting mode, needing a few more minutes to regather his emotions and catch his breath that had gotten caught in his throat.

Some of the things Sam was babbling about in his eagerness to make Dean believe him, was eerily similar to the past events that had happened to a particular vampire Dean had meet in Purgatory and befriended after allowing the vampire to lead him out of Purgatory.

Benny Lafitte.

During their time in Purgatory, whenever they could get a break in between fighting off monsters, the two of them had bonded over stories and memories of their past.

Benny had mentioned that his grandmother had taught him voodoo as a way to combat his irrational and erratic anger. It was supposed to calm and soothe his uneasy soul, to give him patience, compassion and understanding toward others.

It had helped, to a degree, but Benny had never truly lost his darker emotions, the pleasure he could feel whenever he witnessed someone in pain, or if he was the one inflicting the pain.

Benny was a sadistic son of a bitch, but he had never acted upon those darker emotions and desires until he'd been turned by someone Benny referred to as the "old man".

Benny had felt free for the first time in his life, now able to tap into those darker emotions and desires he'd kept locked up and hidden in his mortal life.

Benny had continued to practice magic after he'd been turned, focusing more on the darker aspects of voodoo, witchcraft and the occult, even managing to create his own version of spells and curses which would cause the person – or other supernatural being – who'd had a spell or curse casted against them, the maximum amount of torture and pain that Benny could inflict.

Benny had become a master of his own magical black arts, creating spells and creases that would leave his enemies withering in pain … sometimes even _years_ after Benny had cursed them. Now others knew _not_ to mess with him. His maker had been thrilled because now his clan of vampires could rule and take whatever they wanted without others putting up a big fight.

Benny had been one dark and deeply disturbed individual. And if Dean had known him then, he wouldn't have hesitated in lobbing off Benny's head and being done with him.

But Benny had changed.

Fifty years ago, Benny had met a mortal woman who would change him forever. She was the only one who had been able to settle and soothe his need for violence.

For the first time in his life – both his natural life and his undead life – Benny had felt whole … complete. Benny had given up everything to be with his mortal human – and for the life of him, Dean couldn't remember the woman's name – and had returned to his birth home of Louisiana with his human lover and wife, settling down into a life of a contented family man.

Benny's maker had been furious at Benny's betrayal; jealousy urging him to use all of his resources to track down his wayward son. Because, how _dare_ Benny replace him with someone else? Let alone a filthy mortal woman!

Benny had gotten soft in the years that he had spent with his wife, the only thing he'd needed to worry about was nosy neighbours. So, when Benny's maker had come for him, Benny was unprepared and he had been helpless as he watched his "father" maim, torture and kill the love of his love, before he had turned his lethal blade upon Benny himself, granting him a permanent one-way ticket to Purgatory.

There's no way that Sam could know about Benny's past because the two of them had only meet a couple of times, plus, Benny had been in Purgatory for fifty years before Dean had met and befriended the vampire … at least, that's what Benny had told him.

Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously, not liking how similar Benny's background was to what Sam had been saying.

Had Benny _played_ him?

No.

No, that didn't make any sense at all. Benny had been by his side, fighting with him, protecting him. The two of them were _brothers_ who had survived the hell that had been Purgatory. They had become united upon the battle field, both of them striving to live, trying to break free from Purgatory's grip.

There's no way that Benny had betrayed him; betrayed their trust, their _brotherhood_, not after everything they had been through together.

No, Sam couldn't be talking about Benny. There had to be another vampire out there who'd practiced magic, right?

_Right_?

"D-Dean?" Sam's lips quivered, his voice filled with uncertainty and doubt now.

Dean shook his head to clear his mind of its traitorous thoughts and suspicions. Later, he quickly decided, once Sam was in a more secure place emotionally, that's when Dean would question Sam, that's when Dean would know for certain if Benny had been involved in placing a curse upon his baby brother or not.

But, until then, Dean had to push aside his own confusion and doubt and to concentrate on his slowly unravelling little brother. Everything else could wait until he put his brother back together again.

"You promised me you wouldn't blow up until _after_ I'd finished my confession. You aren't about to go nuclear on me, are you Dean?" Sam inquired cautiously, frantically searching his older brother's expression for clues that would alert him to Dean's impending explosive anger.

Dean glanced down at his brother in surprise before he chuckled easily, giving Sam's neck a gentle squeeze of assurance. "Nope. Not going nuclear yet, kiddo." Dean replied, seeing the wary reservation leave Sam's expression before his eyes sought out Sam's left arm once more.

"You said that their lead vampire _branded_ you with a magical brand that no one can see but you? And with this … cursed brand? … he was able to what? _Block_ you from your own mind? Stop you from remembering things he didn't want you to know?"

"Yes." Sam nodded eagerly, relieved that Dean was giving him the benefit of the doubt here, because he was all too aware of how … far-fetched this all sounded; of how ludicrous it was to believe that a group of rouge vampires had devised such an intricately detailed plan that would now haunt Sam for the rest of his life.

"Why?" Dean frowned in bewildered confusion. "Why would they do that? It seems a bit … excessive, don't you think?"

"I pissed him off by chopping off the head of his second in command." Sam shrugged. "He said that there would be consequences for my actions and that he was going to make my life a living hell … or something to that effect." Sam chuckled humourlessly.

Dean's frown deepened, shaking his head at Sam's sudden dismissive nature. Damn kid was trying to act just like his big brother, trying to pretend that he was okay, downplaying everything by acting nonchalant and unconcerned in an effort to calm Dean down.

Dean had thought that he'd hidden his emotions and locked them down effectively. But, judging by Sam's sudden cautious manner and the way the kid kept sending him worried side long glances, Dean guessed he wasn't as successful as he had thought.

Dean fought to swallow down his confusion, doubt and rage at these vampires who had done this to his brother, because now wasn't the time for his wrathful, vengeance, protective nature to come through. Right now, he had to be Dean Winchester, big brother to Sammy Winchester.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as calm as he could be considering the circumstances.

"Okay," Dean breathed as he went back over his younger brother's words. "I get that you would be … reprimanded." Dean pushed back his anger at the thought of his badly beaten and drugged little brother in the hands of six psychotic vampires.

Dean _really_ wanted to punch something right now.

Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "But Being beaten should have been enough." He got out through gritted teeth.

"I killed one of their own Dean." Sam admitted in a low voice. "What wouldn't _we_ do for revenge Dean?"

"Yeah, okay, fair enough." Dean conceded, knowing that their whole life had been one big revenge gig thanks to their Dad's obsessive need to find old Yellow-eyes and kill him for killing the love of his life, the mother of his children.

"But a life-time curse? C'mon Sammy, you have to admit, it's a little extreme. I mean, why not just kill you? That would have been far easier than going to all of this trouble."

Unless it really was Benny who had cursed his brother; then Benny would definitely do something like this. That guy was all kinds of crazy. The things he had done in Purgatory; the pleasure he had taken in skilfully and creatively killing their enemies, still sent a shiver of horror and dread up and down the older Winchester's spine.

If Benny was behind this, he was vindictive and spiteful enough to create a life-time curse for someone he perceived as his enemy … yeah, that definitely sounded like Benny's MO; Dean couldn't stop the traitorous thoughts that ran through his mind.

But Benny was his _friend_, they had _bonded_, united as brothers in arms, Benny _knew_ how important Sam was to Dean. There was no damn way that Benny would have ever pulled a stunt like this because, if he had … Dean would have killed Benny in a heartbeat.

And Benny knew that. Dean had _warned_ him that Sam was off limits, and going after or threatening Sam would only lead one way; Dean's hand on the blade as he sent Benny on a one-way ticket to Purgatory. Again.

Benny had given Dean his _word_, as his _brother_ that he wouldn't go near Dean's Winchester's little brother, and Dean had believed him. He had taken Benny at his verbal promise, he had trusted Benny …

Dean ruthlessly pushed these doubts to the back of his mind, because it was pointless for him to keep going around and around in circles like this. For the moment, Dean would give Benny the benefit of the doubt.

"He couldn't kill me Dean," Sam shook his head ruefully. "The Alpha wanted me brought back alive, no matter what. And yeah, I guess this whole magical-brand-curse thing is extreme.

Maybe the second in command was his forbidden lover or something." Sam scoffed in an irritated, defensive manner, frustration starting to creep into him now. Because, why the hell did it _matter_ how ridiculously extreme and random this whole thing was? This was how it was. Why the hell couldn't Dean just let this go? Why was he so determined to find a cause as to why Benny had done this to him?

But … there was something niggling at the back of his mind; something he had learned; something that had to do with Benny's lover …

Sam's eyes widened, an involuntary gasp escaping him as it suddenly dawned on him _why_ Benny had reacted the way he had; why he'd developed an instant hard-on hatred for the youngest Winchester. It even explained some of Benny's more sadistic and psychotic tendencies.

"I fucking ruined his plans," Sam slapped a hand against his forehead, feeling stupid because he hadn't figured it out until just now. "You're right Dean, it didn't make sense before. But … because I killed his second in command, the job of messenger was left up to him."

"Messenger?" Dean asked, trying to follow his brother's train of thought.

"I ruined his long-term plans to get even with his maker for taking away his true love." Sam deliberately ignored Dean's question, not wanting to get side-tracked now that the connections were being made. Besides, it would be easier to explain what he meant by "messenger" when Sam explained the deal he had struck with the Alpha.

Dean's eyes snapped toward Sam so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash, because again, his younger brother had made a direct reference to Benny without even knowing it.

That was why Benny had wanted to get out of Purgatory in the first place. He'd wanted to snuff his maker out of existence for killing the love of his life. But … surely Sam wasn't talking about _Benny_, was he?

"I heard later on," Sam continued, interrupting Dean's distressing internal debate, because Benny was innocent, damn it!

"That he made a deal with the Alpha himself. The Alpha would track down his maker and allow him to kill his maker and in return, he had to lead the other six vampires to capture me and bring me to the Alpha alive. But if the messenger was killed then Ben-ah-the _lead_ vampire would have to take his place."

Sam's heart beat wildly in his chest, hoping that Dean hadn't noticed Sam's slip of the tongue.

Dean's eyebrows rose impossibly high at Sam's words. He wanted to question Sam about what he had almost said because, to Dean, if Sam hadn't corrected himself, would he have uttered Benny's name? Or had Dean's ears been playing tricks on him? Making him hear what he wanted because of his suspicions about his vampire friend?

Looking at his brother, Dean could spot the kid's nervousness a mile away. His eyes were wide with apprehension and fear; his hands were trembling, even though Sam tried to cover it up by coughing in a nervous off-hand way.

Sam was obviously hiding something from Dean. But, by the way the kid's jaw was set in determined stubbornness, Dean instinctively knew that even if he posed the question of Benny's possible involvement in all of this, Sam wouldn't answer him. Sam wouldn't either confirm or deny Dean's suspicions because Sam was a stubborn bitch that way.

Reluctantly, Dean knew he had to let this matter drop for now. But later … later, Dean would get the truth from his brother no matter what. Even if it meant that Dean had been betrayed again by someone, he had considered a friend, a _brother_; someone that he had _trusted_ with his life; someone who he had allowed to get close to him; someone who Dean would have gladly given his own life for. Even if Dean's whole world came crashing down around him, he would learn if his _friend_ had been involved in cursing his baby brother for life.

Dean licked his lips, taking a deep breath to stem his traitorous thoughts, his little brother looking at him with those damn pleading, frightened puppy eyes and he relaxed his posture as much as he could.

"Yeah, that would probably do it." Dean nodded in agreement to Sam's reasoning as to why he had been branded with a magical-brand-curse; Sam searching Dean's expression frantically, looking for signs of his older brother's evasion, even as Dean purposely morphed his expression into a relaxed neutral expression.

The breath that Sam had been holding, exploded out of him in a rush of relief with Dean's comment. Obviously, Dean hadn't noticed Sam's almost slip … although, how his normally perceptive older brother had missed that, Sam didn't know. He was only thankful that Dean had missed it.

Damn it!

That had been far too close for comfort.

Sam had to be more careful than that.

He couldn't let Dean know that it was in fact his BFF vampire brother who had been the mastermind behind Sam's capture and eventual torture.

He couldn't afford for Dean to find out that Benny had orchestrated everything that the youngest Winchester had suffered at the hands of the other vampires for six long months.

Dean couldn't know that after they both returned from Purgatory, that it had been Benny who had "convinced" Sam to tell Dean that God awful lie. And later, when Sam wanted to come clean, it had been Benny who had manipulated Sam into believing that Dean would hate him if he knew the truth.

Even now, that was still Sam's biggest fear. That his big brother would absolutely despise him, that he would be disgusted and ashamed to call Sam his brother, that he would be so full of furious rage toward Sam, that he would leave and never return, disowning Sam for allowing those vampires to turn him into what he had become.

Sam shook off his self-doubt and insecurities. He was too far into this confession to back out now. The only option Sam had left was to proceed forward and pray that even if his brother couldn't forgive him, then maybe he could understand why Sam had been reduced to do what he had done.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** I have no knowledge of spells, curses, witchcraft, the occult or voodoo. I am completely using my own imagination and sorry if I offend anyone who practices in any of these things.

There's a lot of explanation about the curse and the brand, so I hoped I explained that so that everyone understands what I meant.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**Special Thanks**: to **Pie Love Luci** for your kind review. I appreciate your continued support throughout this story.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Dean's mind was reeling from Sam's confession so far. His little brother had been _branded_ with some kind of magical curse; and according to Sam, the vampire who cursed and branded him could also go into Sam's mind and _block_ Sam from certain memories this vampire didn't want Sam to learn about.

But … in that explanation, Dean didn't think he had been told what kind of curse this actually was.

Dean had been so preoccupied with Benny's possible involvement in all of this that he had failed to get the actual facts of the situation.

Damn, that was a rookie mistake.

If his Dad were alive right now, Dean would have gotten the biggest lecture of his life for this oversight. And Dean would have deserved it.

Sam had succeeded in distracting Dean so much that he had failed to get the relevant information that he needed. Not only would that mean learning what kind of curse Sam actually had, but Dean would also have to _see_ the brand so that Dean would be able to remove it from his brother's body. Plus, did Dean even know if this was still _active_?

Sam had said it was a life-time curse, and he had said that it needed to be activated in order to be able to access the curse. So, maybe it wasn't active as such. Maybe it was dormant until activated again.

Still, that did little to relieve Dean's anxiousness. Because, regardless of whether this curse-brand was dormant or active, his little brother was still in danger because of it. And no matter what it took, Dean vowed to remove that magical-brand-curse from his brother once and for all.

Dean had to focus. He had to utilize his hunter skills and abilities by not being so emotionally invested. He had to enhance his logical skills, push his emotions into the background as he tried to find a solution to this dilemma and fix it.

But this was about Sammy. This had happened to his Sammy. Sammy had been _branded_, drugged and cursed for life.

Dean couldn't access the hunter skills he had acquired throughout a life time of training and hunting; he couldn't put into practice the logical, methodical, detached precision that a hunter required to have when on a hunt; he couldn't push all of his emotional baggage to the side and concentrate on the problem at hand – like his father had taught him to do – because Sam was involved; Sam was the one who was in trouble.

All of the hunting training Dean had received, went out the window whenever Sam was involved or his life was on the line.

Dean couldn't help it. As soon as he knew Sam was in trouble, the big brother in Dean took over and he reacted instinctively and emotionally. And no matter how much his Dad would reprimand Dean on the careless and sometimes dangerous actions Dean would take whenever Sam was in trouble, didn't seem to change the way Dean responded to that situation time and time again.

Dean understood what his Dad was saying, and he _knew_ – logically – that when he acted impulsively like that, he put every one of their lives in jeopardy.

But Dean could never stop his gut wrenching, deep visceral reaction whenever his little brother was in danger. It was like Dean's brain short circuited and all he could think about was saving Sam; getting to Sam before the unthinkable happened.

Everything stopped. Dean didn't give a crap about the hunt or the supernatural being they were hunting. He could care less about the innocents that may die. Nothing else mattered until he got his brother back, until he knew for certain that Sam wasn't in a serious life or death situation, until the kid was put back together again and out of immediate danger; then, and only then, would Dean's mind switch back to hunter mode. That was when he knew he could finish the hunt.

And here Dean was, making that same mistake all over again. He was letting his emotions guide him, he was letting himself be bogged down by the emotional value of all of this and it was crippling the way Dean was thinking, which was why he was making such basically, stupid rookie mistakes.

The thing that Dean had to remember here though, was that Sam wasn't in trouble; he wasn't in any immediate danger; he was sitting right here beside Dean, he was safe. _They_ were safe in the Bunker. All of this had already happened. There wasn't anything Dean could do to stop what had happened or to change what had happened.

Sam had been burdened with this magical-brand-curse for over three years now and nothing had happened to Sam. He didn't seem to be impaired in any way because of it. He could still hunt. He could still watch his big brother's back. He could still be the same annoying pain in the ass little brother that Dean knew and loved.

But, still … the fact that Sam could still perform his everyday functions and didn't seem to be held back by this curse, did little to ease Dean's worry or concern. Dean hadn't known about it then; but he knew about it now. And that … that changed everything.

Disregarding the guilt he felt at not knowing that his brother was living with a curse – because he should have known, damn it! He should have sensed it, or felt it or known that Sam was struggling with this, that Sam was living with a God damned curse on a day to day basis – Dean had to put that guilt to the side and put all of his energy into finding a way to break his baby brother from this life-time curse.

He may not have been there when Sam had been going through this, or afterwards, when he had brought that BS story Sam had told him about settling down for normal, but Dean was here now. And he would make it up to Sam for having failed him so completely. And the only way Dean accomplished that was by finding a cure for this curse and fixing it for his baby brother.

Never again would Dean let _anyone_ – angel, demon, human or vampire – or _anything_ come between the two of them ever again.

Because Dean had been hurt by what Sam had done or hadn't done in the past, that was the only reason these beings had been able to infiltrate the Winchesters lives; and that was how they had managed to warp Dean's mind and manipulate his feelings into believing that the little brother he had raised and protected was now working against him, betraying him in the worst possible way.

From now on, Sam came first; _before_ everything else. From now on, Dean would believe his brother over what anyone else thought or felt. From now on, Dean would give his brother the benefit of the doubt, he would stand by Sam's side, no matter what. And above all else, from now on, Dean's number one priority would always be Sam's health, safety and happiness. Just like it had been all of those years ago; just like it should have been; and just like it always would be.

Slowly, Dean's fists began to uncurl, feeling a lot calmer and more in control than he had been as he opened his eyes to see Sam's puppy eyes watching him closely, anxious nervousness and concern shimmering within the depths of those hazel eyes, had Dean automatically squeezing his brother's shoulder and giving him a wide, reassuring smile.

"It's okay little brother, everything's fine. But … I have to ask you a couple of questions before you fill me in on the deal you made with the Alpha."

Sam eyed his brother carefully, cautiously, well aware that Dean's sudden soothing and calming manner was just another facet of Dean trying to keep his emotions in check, trying to act like his big brother by pretending everything was fine, that he was fine, when inside, Dean was reeling and barely maintaining control over his emotions but desperately trying to keep up appearances for Sam's sake.

"Okay," Sam granted his brother permission to ask his questions, knowing that they would be about this magical-brand-curse. For some reason, that had shaken his big brother up more than Sam had expected it to.

"This … magical-brand-curse that you have, that only you can see … you said that it's a life-time curse?" Dean asked, wanting to make sure that he had gotten this information correct, waiting for his brother's affirming nod before he continued. "So, I assume that you still have this brand on you?"

"Yes," Sam whispered, an overwhelming feeling of shame filling him as his older brother's expression grew darker by the second, his green eyes becoming more concerned and worried and Sam could all ready guess Dean's next question. "It's an … obedience curse." Sam answered Dean's unasked question, seeing Dean's eyes widen slightly as he searched Sam's eyes for the meaning behind his words.

"Obedience curse?" Dean repeated, the dark knot in his stomach tightening at his brother's soft, hesitant words, his heart pounding in fear now.

Because out of all of the curses Sam could have had, having an obedience curse was one of the worst. It not only destroyed the person's choices, their freedom, but it also crushed their soul. Being nothing but a mere puppet for someone else's dark amusement and enjoyment … Dean shuddered violently. He couldn't think of anything worse.

Most people wished for death. They pleaded to be set free or they begged to die so that they could escape the humiliating, soul crushing that an obedience curse induced in the person.

The fact that Sam had survived this long with an obedience curse attached to him, made Dean feel both proud of his brother's determination and tenacity to carry on despite having such a debilitating curse; and horrified Dean to his core. Because how long would it be before his strong, fiercely stubbornly determined little brother, finally succumbed to the curse's soul crushing tendencies and Sam begged for death?

"As in … I demand you do something and you obey?" Dean had to clarify, hoping and praying that he had heard his little brother wrong.

"Yes."

"Without question or argument? You obey?" Dean persisted, because he had to determine exactly _what_ kind of obedience curse this was. Did his brother have _some_ control when this curse was in effect, or did he have no will of his own? Completely at the mercy of the user's whims and desires?

"Yes … well, sometimes." Sam quickly amended. "It depends on … certain aspects on whether I am completely obedient or only partially compliant."

Dean tried hard not to roll his eyes at Sam's cryptic answer because either you were completely obedient or you weren't.

Dean had never heard of an obedience curse that did both. But then, normal obedience curses didn't last for a life time either. Not only because the person afflicted with it would beg for death or their bodies would give out under the strain of it all, but because obedience curses had a short life span, lasting up to three weeks at the most.

Only really talented people who practiced magic and who had been practicing for a long time could curse a person with an obedience curse that would last longer than three weeks.

"Well then, why is it that you never listen to me and argue with everything _I_ say when you're cursed with an obedience curse?" Dean quipped in typical Dean fashion to try and lighten the suddenly too serious mood and to ease the kid's tension a little.

Dean was rewarded by a small, barely there smile that twisted at Sam's lips before it disappeared again.

"Because you don't know the correct phrase or the word used to activate it." Sam replied in the same teasing tone Dean had used, but he couldn't quite hide the slight shake to his voice.

Dean frowned. "There's a phrase _and_ a word used to activate it?"

"Yes. In order to activate the curse and be able to see the brand, you have to say the correct phrase or word." Sam quickly explained to his increasingly frustrated sibling. "And since you don't know either the phrase or the word, you're not able to access the curse."

Dean paused thoughtfully as he considered his younger brother's responses. He'd never heard of a curse or a spell needing _both_ a phrase and a specific word to activate the curse or spell.

Most times, after the spell or curse was cast, it was with you until it was either broken or it faded out on its own. The incantation the spell caster used while placing the spell or curse on you was all of the activation you needed and it didn't need to be _activated_ in order to use the spell or curse.

Dean _had_ heard of certain curses that used either a phrase or a word to access a person's psyche, but that was rare; and it was never _both_ a phrase and a word, it was either one or the other.

Only very powerful, very old and very dedicated witches could perform those types of curses, but thankfully, neither Winchester had been hit with curses like this – until now, it seemed – and had managed to stop the witch before they could cast such a horrific curse.

Dean had a theory as to why these ancient, powerful and dedicated witches could perform such long lasting and devastating curses, was because they used blood work in most of their spells and curses. And not just any blood – because most spells required blood of some kind, whether that be human or animal – but their own blood, which seemed to add that extra bite to the curse being casted.

Something about their blood specifically, made the curse that much more potent, that much more dangerous. Dean could never quite figure out why that was. And he'd never had the desire to really figure out why … until now.

Dean could vaguely recall Sam saying that the curse he had been hit with was only supposed to be a spell that would die out on its own, but because the spell caster had used their own blood and infused it within the magical brand; that was when it had changed from a simple, harmless spell into a potentially, devastating curse. And not just any curse; but a _life-time_ curse.

Damn, his little brother had managed to piss off one hell of a powerful witch if just the infusion of his own blood had transformed a harmless spell into a horrendous curse.

Benny wasn't that powerful … was he? Was he really the one who had doomed his baby brother to a life-time curse?

Dean didn't know. And he hoped like hell that Benny hadn't done anything as despicable as this. Dean still had his doubts on whether Benny had been involved in this or not.

Because Benny had been stuck in Purgatory for fifty years, so how the hell could he have captured his brother, drugged and beaten him, cursing him before he offered Dean's little brother up on a silver platter to the Alpha himself, when he was already supposed to be in Purgatory?

Benny was good. But even he couldn't be in two places at once.

Dean was well aware that Benny could have lied about how long he'd been in Purgatory, but the way Benny had disposed of those monsters in Purgatory, suggested to Dean that Benny had been fighting these types of monsters for a long time. Plus, Dean had looked into Benny's eyes and had seen no deceit there what so ever. Benny was either a bloody good liar, or he was telling the truth.

After fighting together for a few months, Dean had decided that Benny had been truthful with him. If the vampire had truly wanted to harm the older Winchester, he'd had lots of opportunities in Purgatory to do that. H could have left Dean to die countless times, but Benny had always come back and had fought to save Dean time and time again, even if coming back for Dean was suicidal and would have resulted in not only Dean's death but his own demise as well.

Benny didn't have to do that. He didn't have to risk his own life for Dean. Benny had proven himself to Dean, which was why Dean had to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. He had to remain loyal to the bonds that had been forged between them while they'd been in Purgatory.

Dean blinked to find a pair of hazel eyes studying him curiously. "What?" Dean barked out to cover up the startled feeling he had upon realizing that his younger brother was just staring at him with an intensity that was starting to make Dean squirm self-consciously.

Sam cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed in puzzlement, searching Dean's expression for a few more seconds before he shook his head. "No, it's nothing Dean. You just looked … pensive and kind of sad. I was just curious, what you were thinking about."

Dean cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. There was no way Dean was telling Sam what he had been thinking about. "I've never heard of a curse using _both_ a phrase and a word." Dean blurted out, feeling himself blush at his younger brother's close scrutiny of him, desperate to divert Sam's attention onto something else.

"Yeah, me neither." Sam agreed, sighing softly.

"Why would he use both a phrase and a word Sam? It doesn't make any logical sense."

"I may have a theory about that," Sam stated hesitantly.

"Theories are good. Let's hear it, little brother," Dean encouraged his unusually submissive brother. Normally, Sam wouldn't have to be urged or encouraged to share one of his theories with Dean. He would just blurt it out whether Dean wanted to hear it or not.

This whole submissive, unsure, hesitant demeanour that Sam was now adopting worried Dean a lot more than he cared to admit. Because, when his brother got like this – which wasn't very often, considering how vocal and opinionated the youngest Winchester was – it was usually right before he told Dean something that was deeply painful and hurtful to the young man, and which normally had Dean demanding names and kicking some damn heads in.

Sam flashed Dean a small, appreciative smile. "Having had both the phrase and the word said in order to trigger the curse and reveal the brand, I can tell you that they do completely different things."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean frowned. "I thought it's an obedience curse?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then, it shouldn't matter if either the phrase or the word is used. Don't they both produce the same result?"

"Well … yes, and no."

"Sammy," Dean growled, almost ready to throttle his brother because, seriously, this kid was starting to make less sense the more he talked.

"Wait … let me …" Sam held out his hands in a placating gesture and Dean could see the frustration starting to mount upon Sam's expression as he desperately tried to explain this in a way that Dean would be able to understand.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, I didn't want to bring this up until … later, but … I'm not sure how else to explain this. So –"

Sam took another deep breath, deliberately not looking his brother in the eyes, finding the carpet in his room fascinating, fighting down the panic and fear that wanted to consume him.

"After I made the deal with the Alpha … a couple of weeks later … was the first inkling I had about this brand on my arm was when they activated it.

I figure that the lead vampire must have made me forget about branding and cursing me, because that's the only logical answer I can think of as to why I didn't notice it before then.

But, after that … after they activated it … that was when I could see the magical brand all of the time."

Sam looked up at the sound of his brother grinding his teeth together angrily. And even though Sam knew that his brother's anger wasn't directed at him, he couldn't help but flinch a little at his older brother's red, hot rage.

Sam swallowed down his uneasiness and quickly hurried on before Dean's infamous temper exploded. "And I _think_ that's because they didn't have the phrase to make the brand invisible to even my eyes, they only had the _word_."

Dean silently seethed beside his brother, urging himself to maintain control, even as he wanted to vent, throwing things around, shouting out every crude curse word he could think of while planning a slow and torturous death to every one of those sons of bitches who had _dared_ to use this curse against his brother.

It was naïve of Dean to think that no one would have activated the curse and used it to their advantage against his baby brother, but still, Dean had fervently hoped that wasn't the case.

With his brother's words, what little hope Dean had maintained that no one had used the curse against Sam, fractured and fizzled out because Sam had basically admitted that these vampires had used this curse against his brother in ways that … Dean didn't even want to contemplate right now, but he knew that it would be _bad_.

Vampires were never easy to deal with when they acted and behaved like _normal_ vampires, who went around killing innocent folks or turning a few select people into vampires.

But now, these vampires had found a way in which they could _cripple_ his brother with just one single word … that thought terrified Dean in a way that hadn't terrified Dean since Sam had been trapped in the cage with Lucifer and Michael, with no chance of escaping or getting out.

Dean breathed deeply through his nose for several seconds as he fought to control his inner turmoil of emotions, replaying Sam's words in his mind in a calming kind of mantra, trying to figure out what Sam meant.

But no matter which way Dean looked at it, he didn't understand what Sam was trying to tell him. How the hell could an obedience curse be different when you spoke the phrase or the word? That seemed … impossible and too fantastic for Dean to comprehend.

"I know that it's confusing Dean, and to be honest, I don't really understand it all that well myself." Sam hurried on, his body practically humming with nervousness now. "But, in the time I was … with those vampires, I can only remember them saying the _word_ and not the phrase.

When they used the word, I was more … compliant than what I would have normally been, but I could also _resist_ some of their suggestions.

Over time, I was becoming less susceptible to their commands. Which is why they decided to use the drugs in combination with the word to make me more complaint and manageable, I suppose." Sam muttered, the self-loathing and disgusted tone that Dean hated with a passion, coming through his little brother's tone and demeanour.

"But, whenever _he_ used the phrase, I had no control what so ever. I was completely obedient and not matter how much I … I couldn't fight it, not like I could the word." Sam bit upon his lower lip, swallowing convulsively, tears prickling in his eyes as he fought to regather his emotions and hold it together for just a little bit longer.

"That's the difference between the phrase and the word." Sam continued in a low, shaky voice. "The phrase is used for complete obedience and the word is used to make me more compliant and susceptible.

I don't know exactly _why_ he … the lead vampire … would use such contradictory commands such as obedience versus compliance, but if I had to make a guess, I would assume it's because the lead vampire wanted to have complete control and … I don't think he wanted to share me with anyone else. He wanted all of the control. He wanted all of the power. And … as far as he was concerned … I was _his_ and no one else could have me, but him."

Sam shuddered violently, two teardrops that had escaped his eyes, fell off the end of his nose before Sam wiped a hand over his face to get rid of his momentarily lapse of weakness before turning to meet his brother's eyes once more, feeling extremely vulnerable and fearful with what he had just revealed.

He feared that when Dean looked at him, all Sam would see within those beloved green eyes that he had grown up idolizing would be condemnation, rejection and a dark kind of gleeful gloating because Sam had gotten exactly what he had deserved when he had left Dean to die in Purgatory. But all Sam saw was absolution, acceptance and unconditional support; as well as traces of his older brother's anger brimming just below the surface.

"That's what I think anyway." Sam finished off lamely. "But who knows? That theory could be nothing but utter bullshit." Sam shrugged, grinning weakly.

At the sight of his kid brother's abject misery and the tears he had shed, not to mention the look of absolute panic and terror within those puppy dog hazel eyes, as he waited for Dean's verdict; Dean felt all of the rage leave him momentarily – although, if Dean scratched just a little deeper, it would still be there, just hiding for now because Dean had a traumatized sibling to deal with. And no matter how Dean may be feeling, Sam's needs came first.

"That sounds like a pretty solid theory buddy," Dean answered agreeably. He knew that Sam felt guilty because he hadn't had any control when either the rouge vampires or this _lead_ vampire had acquired the magical-brand-curse, and Dean wanted to immediately reassure his brother that he didn't blame Sam for what had happened while he was under the influence of the activated curse, but there was one word that kept resounding within his mind, which sent all of his fears into overdrive because it was too reminiscent of when Sam had been manipulated into getting hooked on demon blood.

The fact that Sam had mentioned that these vampires had given him drugs in order to make his brother more susceptible … did that mean he was getting them daily? And if that was the case, did it mean that his brother had a problem with these same drugs today?

Dean wouldn't blame Sam if he had gotten hooked on drugs – especially since Sam had been forced into taking them – but if the kid still had a problem with them, then Dean needed to know about it, and he would do everything in his power to get his brother off of them, and to get the help he may need in order to beat this drug addiction.

"Sammy … did you say _drugs_?" Dean asked as gently as he could.

The grin slipped off of Sam's lips and Sam could read the million and one questions within his brother's eyes, but now wasn't the time to answer those. "Yeah Dean, I did say drugs. But you don't have to worry, I'm not reliant or addicted to those drugs anymore."

Dean searched Sam's expression for several seconds, seeing nothing but complete honesty and openness within those shadowed hazel eyes that Dean had spent a life time observing and trying to gauge the emotions that lay within them.

"Okay." Dean replied simply, seeing Sam look at him in shock, as if he expected to have to have done more to get his skeptical older brother to believe him.

"You say you're not hooked on drugs and I believe you."

"Just like that?" Sam queried skeptically, knowing full well how persistent and stubborn his older brother could be when he thought Sam was lying to him or was headed down a dark and dangerous path.

The fact that Dean had just accepted Sam's word with no further questions or interrogation, confused Sam for a moment because it had been a long time – too damn long – that Dean had believed Sam with nothing more to go on than Sam's word.

"Yeah, just like that." Dean said easily, trying not to make a big deal out of it, watching as his brother relaxed ever so slightly at Dean's ready belief in what Sam had told him.

"Okay," Sam nodded, smiling in both gratitude and a new found sense of confidence. Because, _finally_, his big brother was giving him the benefit of the doubt without giving Sam the third degree – hoping to catch Sam out on a lie – or double-checking Sam's story himself, behind Sam's back.

"Okay." Dean acknowledged, smiling back, now having a better idea of what this curse was, how it operated, how it was activated. But there was still one thing Dean needed to know if he had any hope of helping his brother overcome this and getting rid of this curse altogether.

He needed to _see_ the magical brand.

And the way that Dean understood this, the only way he could actually see the brand was if it was activated by uttering either the phrase or the word.

"So, any chance of you giving me the phrase or the word to activate this curse?" Dean asked in a teasing, nonchalant manner. "It would be really handy for me to know in the future, for when you're being an argumentative bitch and not listening to me … for example."

Sam tensed for a moment before he laughed. "Yeah, fat chance of me telling you that Dean." He retorted good naturedly. "I'm not going to give my over confident jerk of an older brother more ammunition to use against me.

Besides, you'd get bored with having me agree with you all of the time. Face it Dean, you love it when I argue with you." Sam's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"True," Dean conceded with a smirk, before his expression grew serious once more, Sam having confirmed, in a roundabout way, that the did know what the phrase and word was in order to activate Sam's magical-brand-curse.

"I need to see it, kiddo."

Sam froze, his eyes growing wide with disbelief before they narrowed with a darkness and coldness Dean had never seen exhibited within his brother's eyes before.

"No." Sam answered adamantly. "No Dean, you don't need to see it." He declared with a finality which Dean knew that Sam meant with every fibre of his stubborn being.

No matter what Dean said or did; no matter what argument Dean tried to make, Sam would _never_ allow Dean to see the magical brand.

Dean opened his mouth, ready to voice his objections even if this topic would prove to be pointless or futile, but as Dean was about to speak, he'd turned to face his brother so that he could make his objections better by being able to read Sam's expressive eyes, when Dean noticed something that stopped him in his tracks.

The clenching of Sam's jaw, the sickly, paleness of his skin, fine tremors that tore through the length of his younger brother's tall, lanky frame, the classic signature Sammy move that Sam made whenever he felt uneasy or nervous about something; bitting his bottom lip, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, Sam's breathing speeding up a notch, almost as if he was about to break into a run from a walk or he was on the verge of panicking …

Sam wasn't refusing to let Dean see the magical brand because he was being an obstinate, stubborn bitch. He wasn't saying "no" to Dean in an attempt to keep Dean from learning the truth or from knowing how bad it had really been.

No. Sam had said "no" because he was trying to protect himself.

If Dean was reading his little brother's body language correctly, then Sam wasn't being intentionally stubborn or difficult, Sam was absolutely terrified to the point where Sam was on the verge of developing one of his rare panic attacks.

Dean paused and closed his mouth without uttering a word, knowing that if he was to push any further, Sam would only clam up on him and would slide into an all-consuming panic attack. And that, was something Dean wanted to avoid at all costs.

Watching his baby brother struggling to catch his breath, was something Dean would never get used to and something that always scared Dean half to death.

Dean debated with himself, thinking about all of the pros and cons of pushing this topic further, but to see Sam literally on the edge of a panic and terror all because Dean had wanted to _see_ the magical brand, made Dean question if it was really worth it to proceed. Did he really want to send his little brother into a panicked melt down? And was that all Sam was trying to hide from him here?

Dean frowned. Was Sam really that scared of him seeing the magical brand? Or was it something else?

Dean could have kicked himself as the answer suddenly became obvious to him now. Sam was scared. He was terrified. And, he was also the biggest control freak that Dean had ever met.

In their line of work, you couldn't control much. You could plan the hunt step by step, research everything you could and be prepared as much as you could, but hunts rarely went as planned. So, in order for Sam to feel as if he had some degree of control over his life, he had always tried to maintain control of himself, his situation and his actions.

He didn't want his life to be dictated to by his Dad, or to be boxed in or bullied into the hunt, or to live the often haphazard, unknown, and unpredictable lifestyle that you lived when you lived the hunter's life.

That was one of the reasons why Sam had decided to leave hunting and go to school in the first place. He'd wanted to be free; he'd wanted to be safe and above all else, Sam wanted the final say in what he decided to do with his life.

Sam's biggest fear was to have that control ripped out from under him and taken away … which was why Sam hated to be restrained, tied down and gagged. He hated to be or appear helpless and defenceless, having no say or control on the outcome of his situation.

Sam had been hit by a nasty obedience curse. He'd had his control ripped away from him, helpless to the vampires' whims and desires. He'd been violated, used and … tortured (most likely). He'd had no say, no control on what happened to him.

So, of course the kid would freak out when Dean insisted on seeing the magical brand. Because in Sam's mind, that would mean that he would be helpless again, completely dependent on Dean once the phrase or word activated the curse.

Even though Sam _knew_ that Dean would never take advantage of him like that, Sam would _never_ want to appear that weak, helpless or vulnerable ever again.

Dean could understand that. And it broke his heart to see his proud, independent, stubborn younger brother looking so defeated, and flat out terrified that he was unwilling to share this secret with the one person who Sam trusted above anyone else … his older brother.

That was why Dean knew he had to proceed with this. As much as he'd like to drop it and move on, he knew he couldn't. Because if his brother was exhibiting this much fear, then it was still hurting him. And no matter what, Dean _had_ to get to the bottom of this. He had to fix it, to make it right, so that Sam would never show this amount of fear ever again.

Sam should feel safe. He deserved to feel safe.

And Dean should be the one to be able to provide his brother with that safety. And in order for him to do that … Dean would need to know – to _see_ – what he was dealing with, to be able to fix it, to protect his little brother from _all_ types of dangers, so that, maybe one day, Sam could walk with his head held high, the shadows of fear dissipating from Sam's expression and eyes as all of this became nothing but a distant memory.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** I have no knowledge of spells, curses, witchcraft, the occult or voodoo. I am completely using my own imagination and sorry if I offend anyone who practices in any of these things.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

**UNCORGIVABLE SOLUTION**

**CHAPTER TWELEVE**

Dean knew he had to tread lightly, so his fragile younger brother didn't fall into the imminent panic attack he was heading toward. Dean decided that any sort of physical contact, no matter how innocent, supportive or sincere it was, would be a mistake.

Instead, Dean lowered his tone into calm, patience and understanding as he tried to get through to his freaked-out kid brother. "Sammy, hey kiddo, I get that this is hard on you," Dean began in an almost cautious manner, seeing Sam jump and flinch at the sound of his voice, but was reassured when Sam didn't immediately lash out at Dean physically or try to get away from him in panicked terror.

Sam was freaked out, but he hadn't descended too far into panic yet and was obviously willing to hear Dean out. "And I understand _why_ you don't want to relinquish control over to anyone,"

Sam twitched at Dean's words, his body tensing as if he was preparing to bolt and Dean knew that he only had one shot to get this right.

"But, it's _me_, Sammy," Dean spoke earnestly, passionately. "And you know that I would _never_ hurt you, right? I would rather _die_ than to ever see you hurt again."

Sam's breath caught in his throat at his brother's words, because the absolutely last thing Sam wanted was to have Dean die because of him … again. And, _of course_ Sam knew that Dean would never hurt him. That thought had never crossed the youngest Winchester's mind.

If Sam had to give his complete obedience to someone, then he would pick Dean in a heartbeat, because Dean would never misuse it, abuse it, or make Sam do things he wasn't comfortable with.

Sam didn't want to activate the magical-curse-brand because he feared losing complete control to his older brother. He didn't want to activate it because he didn't want Dean to see the scars and other marks that littered his body. He didn't want Dean to know how far he had fallen. He didn't want Dean to _see_ the evidence of Sam's hurt, shame and humiliation.

"Sammy, do you trust me?"

Sam's head shot up and he gave Dean such an incredulous look that Dean almost recoiled in shock because of it.

"Of course, I trust you." Sam responded instantly. "I don't want to reveal the magical brand or utter the phrase or word because I don't trust. That's _not_ the issue here Dean." Sam stated defensively, his voice rising slightly in frustration now, because how could his brother not know that? How could Dean think that Sam didn't trust him? Did Dean really have such little faith in him?

There was _no one_ on this planet that Sam trusted more than he did his older brother.

"Okay, then what's the issue little brother?" Dean asked calmly, beyond relieved that Sam was no longer on the verge of having a massive panic attack.

Instead, now Sam seemed to be irrationally frustrated with Dean, although Dean had no idea on why that would be. He was only thankful that Sam was out of surrendering to his down ward, destructive, panic-attack cycle. Dean would take anger any day over despair.

Sam paused, not wanting to talk about this anymore; not wanting to be reminded of the second biggest failure of his life, but … Sam knew Dean. And he knew that Dean wouldn't let go of this until he got an answer he was satisfied with.

The frustration fizzled out of Sam as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Sam feeling extremely weary and very sad. "Because I don't want you to _see_ what they did to me, Dean." Sam replied softly, regret, remorse, guilt and a slight pleading quality entering Sam's tone that Dean wasn't too fond of.

Before Dean could open his mouth to ask Sam what the hell he meant by that statement, Sam held up a hand to stop his older brother's endless supply of questions.

"You don't think I got out of this without any reminders, did you?" Sam's lips twisted up into a deformed parody of a grin before his expression fell once more. "I have scars Dean. I have permanent reminders of what happened to me during … our time together all over my body … even the self-inflicted scars upon my wrist when I tried to hack this damn brand off of my arm. But, like the magical brand itself, you can't see all of the damage to my body unless the curse is activated."

Sam waited until he could see understanding entering those familiar green eyes before Sam continued, wanting this topic to be over and done with. "Dean, I promise I will explain everything in more detail. I will even tell you in explicit detail what torturous things I endured at the hands of those vampires."

Sam shuddered violently at that thought, hoping that Dean wouldn't take him up on this offer. "But for right now, can you _please_ just leave it at that?" Sam's bottom lip trembled violently, his hazel eyes wide, wet and pleading, and although Dean would have loved to have gotten to the bottom of this once and for all, he decided to let the matter drop for now; more for Sam's emotional state than anything else.

"Okay Sam," he relented with a sigh. "But we will be talking about this later." He added, letting Sam know that this subject was far from being over with.

"Yeah, sure. No problem. Whatever you say Dean," Sam nodded with relief, offering Dean a small smile of gratitude.

Dean acknowledged Sam's gratitude with a miniscule smile of his own, silently pleased that this topic would be put to the side for now, because Dean felt a numb kind of horror settling over him at the thought that _his_ little brother had invisible scars that Dean wasn't aware of.

Dean knew every scar his brother had upon his body, which represented – in Dean's mind – how many times he had failed to protect Sam from getting hurt. But, in saying that, Dean could also look upon those same scars, a self-satisfied smirk settling upon his lips when he thought about how he had made those sons of bitches pay for marking his baby brother's body.

Now, Dean felt as if he had failed his brother yet again, for not only being oblivious to those invisible scars, but also because he hadn't been there to protect Sam from obtaining them in the first place. Dean knew how irrational that was because he'd been stuck in Purgatory at the time, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of failure that filled him.

Dean needed time to process this new information, and time to see for himself what his failure had cost his little brother. But, before Dean could start to be overwhelmed and drowning in his own guilt, Sam started to talk again, and Dean immediately focused his attention back upon his brother once more.

"The Alpha vampire was expecting my arrival, beckoning us forward from the window as the lead vampire pulled me from the van and ushered me up the steps. The rest of the rouge vampires flanked around me, letting me know that thinking about trying to escape would be a mistake and a waste of time.

They shouldn't have bothered." Sam snorted ruefully. "I had no intention of running or was in any condition to even think up a crafty escape plan. To start with, I didn't even know where the hell I was, because they kept me blindfolded right up until I was presented in front of the Alpha. Plus, my body still felt heavy and my mind was struggling to keep up with what was happening because of the drugs they had pumped me with."

Sam could remember how disconnected he had felt from his body, how uncoordinated he was when the lead vampire gripped Sam's arms behind his back hard enough to leave bruises, how muddled and disjointed everything seemed, not able to connect one thought to another as he was hauled up those steps to meet the Alpha vampire.

If Sam hadn't pieced together by now that escaping these vampires would be next to impossible, then Benny's dark, whispered threats had Sam convinced that trying to escape would be bad not only for him, but it would be extremely bad for all of the people who had ever helped the Winchesters, protected them or offered them save harbour.

Sam may be willing to risk his own life, but he wasn't foolish enough to risk his allies and friends.

"Thankfully, by the time I reached the Alpha, my confusion was starting to clear. Or maybe it was because of the unexpected hard, sharp slap the lead vampire gave me, which still had my ears ringing and my eyes watering minutes after I was looking into the Alpha's eyes. Whatever the reason, I was relieved that I was at least semi with it while facing the Alpha."

Sam placed a hand upon his older brother's arm. "Stop grinding your teeth Dean, I'm fine." He told his over protective older brother.

Dean glared challengingly at his younger brother. "No Sam, it's _not fine_." He stressed through gritted teeth.

"It was only a slap Dean," Sam pointed out patiently. "I've had far worse than a _slap_ before in my life. Besides, it didn't even hurt that much. I was more embarrassed than anything else. I mean, c'mon Dean, I'm a _hunter_. Hunter's get _punched_, not slapped like some delicate …"

"Girl?" Dean helpfully supplied his red-faced stuttering sibling. And Dean couldn't help but laugh at the utter mortification that crossed Sam's face. "Yeah, sorry Sammy, but you can hardly blame them for treating you like a girl since you always want to initiate some kind of chick flick moment at a drop of a hat.

Plus, you do have ridiculously _long_ hair for a dude." Dean teased half-heartedly, knowing that his brother had deliberately set himself up for the teasing in order to lighten the mood and to stop Dean from going nuclear over a slap.

Dean grinned at Sam's affronted look, grudgingly admitting that maybe Sam had a point. Going nuclear right now was not going to change what had happened and all it would really do was to send Dean out on a murderous rampage.

"Okay Samantha, you win. I'll _try_ to keep my melodramatic anger in check. But, from what I'm hearing about this lead vampire, I'm really starting to hate this guy."

Huh. Wonder what Dean would think if he knew that the lead vampire was actually his BFF vampire buddy from Purgatory, Benny? Sam thought bitterly, the grin trembling upon his lips. Would Dean still hate the lead vampire if he knew the truth? Or would he try and defend Benny's actions to his ungrateful little brother?

"Yeah, me too," Sam whispered, all amusement vanished now because Sam honestly didn't know who Dean would believe, protect or defend if Benny were still alive and if Dean knew the truth.

Sam quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It didn't matter. Benny was dead. And even if he wasn't … Sam would never reveal to Dean that the lead vampire was in fact Benny.

If this was the only way Sam could protect his brother, then that was what he was going to do. Because, just like Dean couldn't see Sam hurt either physically or emotionally, Sam couldn't see Dean hurt either. This was one secret Sam would be taking to his grave.

Sam shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "The Alpha didn't seem too worried that he had lost one of his … vampire sons. I think he was more surprised that he hadn't lose _more_ of his children when they had captured me, to be honest."

Sam let out a humourless laugh. "If they hadn't ambushed me when I was totally inebriated, I know that I would have been able to put up a better fight than what I did." Sam grunted with disproval and disgust because he should have never let his guard down like that.

"The Alpha, who normally oozed nothing but calm, self-confidence and disdain for us disgusting mortal humans – his words, by the way – seemed … flustered and frazzled. He was pacing in an agitated way and forgo all of the polite, small talk he would normally take pleasure in boring us to death and got straight down into why he had wanted to meet with me."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "I wasn't really in the most forgiving or patient mood and was kind of rude, demanding the Alpha to tell me why I was there.

It was suicidal really, to talk to the Alpha like that, but I was through with playing games because now I had lost … God knows how many days it was in my pursuit to rescue you from Purgatory.

I had been ambushed, beaten, drugged and kidnapped by these vampires because the Alpha had requested to see me. So, yeah, I was rude and I was _pissed_. Because, if this was some kind of wild goose chase or some revenge kick the Alpha had planned for me, then I was going to go nuclear."

Dean snickered beside Sam, knowing exactly how lethal his younger brother could be when pushed to his limit. He could easily have taken out these other vampires without even breaking a sweat.

Beating the Alpha … well, Sam wasn't quite that lethal. But Sam most definitely could have run the Alpha off, especially if Sam had dealt with all of his vampire cronies beforehand.

"The Alpha just peered at me in an odd kind of way before he nodded in compliance with my demands. He told me he had a proposition for me. If I helped him with his problem, then he would help me with mine."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head at how stupid and naïve he had been. "I honestly didn't know what the Alpha was talking about. I didn't have any kind of problem. And I most definitely didn't have a problem the _Alpha_ could help me with.

The Alpha smiled at me in a patient, condescending way as if he was dealing with a mere child who knew nothing. He told me that he could get you out of Purgatory.

I burst out laughing at that. Because really, how stupid did the Alpha think I was? I may have been desperate to get you out of Purgatory, but that didn't mean I was going to believe any old monster that claimed they could rescue you from Purgatory. I was going to need more proof than mere words. He was going to have to _show_ me before I believed a word he said and got my hopes up for nothing.

But, as it turns out, I didn't need to be shown. I just needed to hear the semi-credible plan the Alpha laid out. And, as slim of a chance as it was, as impossible as the plan seemed to free you from Purgatory … I accepted without too much persuasion on the Alpha's part and committed myself to this ludicrous, absurd plan to release you from Purgatory; because I was desperate and since I hadn't even come _close_ to finding a way into Purgatory myself … I was never going to say no.

This was my chance to get you out of there. And even though I knew that striking deals with monsters didn't end well for us, I didn't care. I accepted the Alpha's deal because I was desperate. But then … the Alpha was desperate too. And just like the Alpha was the only one who could help me; I was the only one who could help him."

As Sam was talking about his meeting with the Alpha, the memories came rushing toward him as if it had happened only yesterday.

Outwardly the Alpha vampire appeared as intimidating, aloof and impervious to any harm what so ever, but within the Alpha's dark eyes, Sam could see uncertainty, doubt and … was that _fear_? What the hell could the _father_ of all vampires be afraid of?

It definitely wasn't little old Sam Winchester, that was for sure.

Because, even though both Winchester siblings had been a thorn in the Alpha's side by taking out his children whenever they had come across them in a hunt, Sam knew that the Alpha would be able to take Sam out with _both_ arms tied behind his back. Hell, he'd be able to take out a dozen hunters with both arms behind his back.

So, the fact that Sam could see _fear_ within this ancient monster's dark eyes, caused Sam to falter, his confidence taking a solid hit as self-doubt began to fill him. Because if the Alpha was _scared_, then what the hell could Sam do to help him?

Sam was a mere mortal human. The Alpha was the oldest monster roaming the Earth, timeless, ancient, _powerful_. What the hell could Sam offer someone like that?!

Sam had tried to hide his own insecurities and doubts as he listened to the Alpha's plan to retrieve his big brother from Purgatory. And the more Sam listened, the more determined he became to help the Alpha with his problem – no matter what or who that might be – knowing that this was his only chance to get Dean out of Purgatory. This was how Sam could save his brother. And no matter what it cost him; Sam was willing to pay that price.

But it hadn't been the deal with the Alpha that had caused Sam to sink to such low levels; where he wished for death; where he had become a drug addict; where he had become a sex slave, a prostitute, fulfilling – not only the rouge vampires, but – other beings – both supernatural and human alike – dark, twisted desires and fantasies; where he had fallen so far, so low, that he _wanted_ those drugs, he _needed_ them to escape the morbid misery of his life, praying that one day he would take so many drugs that he would overdose and die; where he had tried to take his own life numerous times, only to be punished worse than before when he did.

They had great pleasure in reminding him that he had _no control_ over his life anymore and the only reason that he was still alive was because he was _useful_; he gave those vampires great entertainment; they enjoyed seeing Sam suffer in horrendous ways – physically, mentally or emotionally – either by them or the … clients that had brought Sam for a few hours, the night or the weekend.

They liked to hear the terror they could see reflected within Sam's large, glassy hazel eyes whenever they tortured him, bitting him, sucking his blood almost to the point of death before they would pull back, forcing his body into _wanting_ and hot with desire while they teased him for hours, using toys and chains and teeth …

Oh God, the blood; the agonized screams that would be ripped from Sam's throat time and time again as they tortured his mind, his body, his spirit … his will to live.

Everything Sam ever was, was stripped away from him – his stubbornness, his pride, his determination – everything was ripped to pieces until everything that Sam was, was gone. And in its wake … Sam was laid bare, flayed alive, all of his layers that he had used to protect himself were gone, and he was left barely human; a shell of the man he had once been, skittish, snivelling, pleading, sobbing, a pathetically poor imitation; a shadow of the once proud, ruthless hunter he had been, whose name had left fear in the hearts of the monsters he hunted.

Sam Winchester had been _broken_.

Completely and utterly _broken_.

And it was all because of Benny. Because Benny had wanted to make Sam suffer for sending him to Purgatory; because Benny had been _jealous_ of the bond the brothers shared; because Benny had wanted Dean all to himself. And if Benny couldn't have Dean … then Sam most definitely didn't deserve his brother's loyalty, affection or his attention.

Because … Sam belonged to Benny. And once Benny was top-side again, he _always_ made sure to never let Sam forget the fact that Sam belonged to him and no matter what Sam did or how far he ran, he could never escape Benny's reach and he would never be free from the vampire's hold for as long as they both lived.

Sam shuddered violently, sensing Dean moving closer toward him in reaction to Sam's shudders. Sam was so glad that Benny was dead. He was so glad that he was free from that sadistic vampire's hold. He was so glad that all of those twisted mind games were done; the torture, the sexual and mind games that Benny had still forced Sam to endure right up until his death in Purgatory.

Theoretically, the curse should have ended with Benny's death. Sam should have been set free. The brand should have diminished with the passing of time. And, although all of the marks and scars he had received from his time with the vampires – and after, once Benny had returned from Purgatory – would have become visible, he should have been set free.

He shouldn't have this dark despair gnawing inside of him, filling him with a sense of impending doom and dread. He should have all of his memories, all of the times Benny had ordered him to forget – and who knows how many times that was – he should have them all, he should be free, damn it. Not living in this perpetually fear of someone – other than him – being able to see the brand, know what it meant and using it against him.

Benny's death should have insured his freedom. Instead, Sam felt more trapped than ever. And if he hadn't witnessed Benny's death with his own eyes, Sam wouldn't believe that the vampire had perished, Sam would have been convinced that Benny was still alive because Benny's death _should_ have broken this obedience curse, considering that it had been Benny's blood that he had infused within the magical brand.

Now, Sam had no hope of escaping this curse. Because, other than Benny's death breaking this curse, the only other way Sam had found to break it, was for Benny to perform a spell undoing the curse … and, of course, his blood would be needed as well.

Sam had known that he would never have been able to force Benny into doing the anti-removal spell. His only hope had been killing the vampire in order to remove this obedience curse.

But now … Benny was dead; and Sam was still cursed. So, the youngest Winchester had vowed never to speak of this curse, never to seek anyone's knowledge on how to get rid of such a powerful curse, and _never_, under any circumstances, to speak aloud the phrase or word that would make the magical brand visible and activate the curse.

The last vow had been the easiest for Sam to keep because Sam couldn't say either the phrase or the word anyway … well, he could say the phrase or the word, but when he said it, it didn't activate the curse. Someone else had to say the phrase or word in order to activate the actual curse.

Sam hadn't even had the nerve or the courage to even write down the phrase or word. Because _anyone_ could get their hands on it. And with the enemies the Winchesters had made in their line of work, the last thing Sam needed was for the phrase or word to end up in the wrong hands … and then Sam would be back where he started when the rouge vampires had held his captive for six months.

Sam couldn't think of anything worse … well, actually, that was a lie. The very _worst_ thing Sam could think of would be if someone found out about Sam's obedience curse, uttered the phrase or the word and ordered Sam to kill Dean.

If they used the phrase, activating the obedience curse, and ordered Sam to kill Dean … Sam would do it. He would kill his brother, no matter how much he didn't want to, no matter how desperately Sam would plead and beg and try to fight … Sam would kill Dean and nothing – except the person who had activated the curse in the first place and ordering Sam to stand down and not to kill his brother – would Sam be able to stop and comply with his new Master's orders.

That was the one thought that kept Sam up at night. The thought of someone finding out about Sam's obedience curse and using it to their advantage. Sam didn't care about himself. He didn't care what happened to him. But he did care about his brother.

And no matter how much revealing all of this would hurt him and would probably destroy the brothers' bond forever, Sam had to warn Dean about the threat that Sam now posed to his brother's life.

God forbid if the Darkness found out about Sam's new weakness and used it to her advantage. Sam would rather _die_, than be a puppet to anyone else ever again. He would rather suffer a hundred more years in the cage with Lucifer and Michael, than to ever be responsible for his beloved older brother's death.

Even though Sam had never wanted Dean to learn this shameful secret, he understood now why Gabriel had forced Sam to reveal this to Dean. Because, not only was it Sam's life and sanity on the line, but his brother could also be put in harm's way because of Sam's obedience curse.

And once Dean learned the truth, if he was smart, he would get as far away from Sam as he could or … maybe Sam could convince Dean to save the both of them all of this unnecessary heartache, trouble and time, and put Sam out of his misery once and for all.

But, as Sam looked up into green eyes that were going a deeper shade of green filled with older brother worry and concern, Sam knew he would have had a hard time trying to convince Dean to end his life.

Dean had done everything in his power, had given his own life over and over again in order to save Sam. So, for Dean to willingly _kill_ Sam … yeah, that would never happen. Dean would never sacrifice Sam, no matter how much he may suffer because of it.

Looking into those eyes that had always sheltered Sam, protected him from harm and tried to provide him with the best up-bringing that he could provide – considering the constant moving around and living the hunter's lifestyle that their father had thrust upon them – Sam made a promise to himself.

If _anyone_ ever learned of the curse that Sam had obtained or ever tried to use it to their own advantage, Sam would take his gun and easily eat a bullet. Because while he was willing to risk his own life, he would never be able to risk his brother's. And if killing himself was the only way that he could protect Dean, that's what he would do.

"Sammy, are you okay kiddo?" Dean's brow crinkled in worry, concerned about how pale his brother had become.

Sam smiled shakily. "Not really, but I will be." He added in a determination that surprised him. But, for Dean, he would keep fighting. He would put the Darkness down or stuff her back in the box Sam had opened for her. He would fix his mess. And then … whatever happened after that, would happen.

But for now, …

Sam regathered his scattered thoughts and proceeded to tell Dean of the deal that he had made with Alpha and the impact that this deal would have on, not only him, but other hunters as well.

"The Alpha said he knew of a secret door out of Purgatory. He said that he knew of its location and the spell needed in order to open the door. He said that he would be willing to share this information, to give it to you. But, in order to do that, someone had to die and be the _messenger_ for the Alpha."

Ah. So, that's what Sam had meant when he'd mentioned the messenger earlier.

This lead vampire, who had been tasked with capturing Sam and bringing him to the Alpha, now had to make the ultimate sacrifice and die because Sam had killed the original messenger when they had ambushed Sam and attacked him in his room.

Dean could understand this lead vampire's bitterness and hatred toward the youngest Winchester. But … this was Sammy. He had hurt Sammy. And no matter how much Dean might sympathize with him, Dean would make him regret the day that he had drugged, beaten and cursed his younger brother … if he wasn't dead all ready, Dean would make him beg for death before he put him out of his misery.

"I, of course, offered to be the messenger." Sam continued, watching his brother frown in disapproval. "But the Alpha said it wouldn't work. He said that even if I did die, I wouldn't go to Purgatory because human souls didn't belong in Purgatory, only monster souls did."

"That's right." Dean smirked in agreement, satisfied that Sam's self-sacrificing plan had failed. "Human souls are not welcome Purgatory. Besides, if you had somehow managed to find a way to get into Purgatory, I would have kicked your ass all the way to the damn door until we got top-side, and _then_, I would have given you the biggest lecture of your life." Dean added, more serious and grimmer than Sam had seen from his big brother in a long time.

Sam knew that Dean's words were said not to hurt, but in a need to protect; so, Sam didn't take them to heart. But he also knew that his brother was dead serious and Sam was kind of thankful now that he hadn't been able to get into Purgatory.

As good as it would have been to have seen the surprised look upon Dean's face, Sam dreaded the lecture and ass-kicking he would have received because of that stunt.

"Yeah, I'm sure you would have." Sam answered, smiling in fond exasperation at his older brother's predictable threats, that Sam knew Dean would never actually act upon.

"So, I thought that was the end of that." Sam snorted bitterly now. "Here, the Alpha had given me a false sense of hope, only to snatch it away at the last second.

But then … in order to prove that he was telling the truth and that the Alpha was being completely serious, he offered to tell one of his children what he knew and then he would kill him, so this _messenger_ could get the information to you.

I was stunned. And I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical. Because why the hell would the Alpha do something that huge just for me … for _us_? I honestly didn't believe it was all happening – it felt too good to be true – until the Alpha lobbed off the messenger's head and sent the lead vampire to Purgatory.

It wasn't until the Alpha sent the lead vampire to Purgatory that he told me what he wanted in exchange for your rescue from Purgatory. And, even if I had any reservations about it – which I didn't – I knew I couldn't flat out deny the Alpha's offer, considering that he had just made the ultimate sacrifice and sent one of his sons to Purgatory to save you."

"Wait," Dean frowned, something nagging at him as he pondered over what Sam had said earlier about how the Alpha was going to get him out of Purgatory. Most of what Sam said, gelled with what Benny had told him.

Benny had known about the door out of Purgatory that was only specifically for human souls. And he had led Dean to that door, almost as if he had been given a map of its location.

How Benny had come across that information, Dean was ashamed to admit, he hadn't even asked, nor had he really cared. He had just assumed that it was common knowledge among all of the residents in Purgatory.

But the spell … that hadn't been to open the door to Purgatory. That had been so Dean could transport Benny's soul – essence – out of Purgatory and return him to his body once they reached top-side.

"There was no spell," Dean muttered almost to himself.

"What?" Sam spluttered, completely loosing track of his chain of thoughts at his brother's soft admission.

"There was no spell to open the door." Dean clarified for his confused sibling. "The door was already open, but only human souls could pass through it."

Sam frowned, puzzled now. "Then … what was the spell for?"

"It was for Benny," Dean replied, knowing the look he would receive when Sam learned about that since neither Benny nor Sam had gotten along in the best of circumstances.

Dean had always assumed it was because Sam had been jealous that he didn't have Dean's undivided attention anymore. But … was it more than that? Did these two actually have a _history_? Had Benny been this lead vampire who had cursed his baby brother for life?

Dean hated to admit it, but it made sense in a horrible kind of way. It would explain the instant animosity between the two of them. It would also explain why Benny had called Dean away from Sam so often during the first few weeks of their return … almost as if _he_ was jealous of the attention Dean was giving to his little brother.

Dean had never quite understood Sam's instant hate for the vampire, considering his little brother had been a champion for Lenore and her animal drinking vampire family, not to mention that Sam had befriended Ruby … a _demon_, for goodness sakes, but Dean had put that all down to Sam packing a temper tantrum because he didn't have Dean wrapped around his little finger anymore.

Had Dean been wrong?

Had Benny really hurt Sam? Branded him? Cursed him?

But … Benny had given his life for Sam's. He had sacrificed himself to go back to Purgatory and lead Sam to the human-soul door and got Sam out safely, staying behind so that Sam could get top-side and be back by his brother's side once more.

Would Benny have done that if he had been the one to cause Sam such misery and pain?

Sam could feel the blood draining from his face at his brother's words. The spell hadn't been to open the door. It had been for … Benny? But … _why_?

"Benny couldn't leave Purgatory through that door Sammy," Dean said, almost as if he could read Sam's thoughts. "Only _human_ souls could get out that door. And Benny … he was a vampire. The spell was used so that I could transport Benny out of Purgatory – like you did for Bobby's soul, remember? – and return him to his body top-side."

Sam nodded at Dean's question. Yes, he did remember the spell he had said in order to transport Bobby's soul out of Purgatory. "That was the same spell you used for … _Benny_?" Sam's voice sharpened slightly on the vampire's name, even as his face scrunched up in disgust and displeasure because Sam hated to even _think_ about that bastard, let alone say his name.

"Yes." Dean frowned at the venom in his brother's voice when he said Benny's name. And it made Dean more suspicious than before. Had Benny been the Alpha's messenger, sent to Purgatory to lead Dean out all because he had failed to bring the _true_ messenger back from his mission to capture Sam? Had Benny _lied_ to him and hurt his little brother while Dean remained oblivious to it all?

Sam's head was spinning with this news. Because, if a spell wasn't needed in order to open the door, then … Sam's eyes widened as the answer became blindingly obvious to him.

The Alpha had _played_ him. He had told Sam that he would prove the truth of his words by sacrificing one of his own children, except … the bastard didn't sacrifice anyone at all.

He gave Benny the spell which would get Benny out of Purgatory. He _knew_ that Dean would feel indebted and grateful to Benny for leading him out of Purgatory and that Dean would have a sense of obligation to bring his new founded friend and _brother_ out of Purgatory.

The God damned son of a bitch had _played_ him!

Sam felt hysterical laughter bubbling deep inside of him, wanting to break free, but Sam held it back; afraid that if he gave into the laughter, then he wouldn't be able to stop no matter how hard he tried.

Instead of laughing hysterically like a mad man or giving into the anger that surged within, Sam just shook his head in resignation and sadness. Because _of course_ the Alpha had screwed him over. What the hell did Sam expect? It wasn't as if monsters lived by some moral code after all.

Except … Sam had thought the Alpha was different. Sam had thought that the Alpha wouldn't betray Sam or back stab him because he was just as desperate as Sam. Sam was desperate to save his brother. And the Alpha, he was desperate to save his children.

Now, Sam realized how foolishly naïve and innocent that thinking had been. Just because the Alpha had been as desperate as Sam, that didn't mean he was honourable; that didn't mean that he wouldn't have screwed Sam over at the first chance he got. He was a monster. And monsters didn't play by human rules, they were only interested in how it would benefit them.

But Sam had been fooled. He had been lulled into a false sense of security because the Alpha had sacrificed one of his own children in order to save his brother's life. And considering the Alpha's dire circumstances, for him to have sacrificed one of his own … it had been a huge gesture in Sam's book and he had readily given into the Alpha's demands of the deal the Alpha had proposed.

"The fucking sneaky bastard strung me along the whole time!" Sam exploded in a rare show of rage, surging to his feet as he began to pace in front of Dean in furiously aggravated frustration. "Stupid. I was so God damned _stupid_ to think that …"

Dean blinked, shocked into silence and indecision by his little brother's raging tirade, not used to seeing his brother fly off the handle like that. Usually it was Dean flying off the handle and Sam having to rein him in. But now that their roles had been reversed, Dean was stumped into silence and inaction at his younger brother's unusual behaviour.

"I _trusted_ him Dean." Sam raged as he came to stand before his big brother, swallowing hard as he tried to get his emotions back under control. "I can't believe what an idiot I was." Sam hung his head in shame, his whole body shaking with rage that was directed inward.

Because he should have learned that lesson years ago when Ruby had screwed him over. You should never, ever trust a monster because they would screw you over in a heartbeat. Sam should have known that. But Sam hadn't learned his lesson … again.

He had trusted a monster, yet again, only to learn that he had screwed Sam over big time by bringing back Benny, who had spent the rest of his time while top-side inserting himself into the brothers lives, causing friction between the two of them, setting them against each other, trying to destroy the Winchester siblings from the inside out.

Had the Alpha known what Benny had done to Sam? Had he known that Benny had cursed Sam? Did he know that Benny would almost break the two brothers apart?

Had that been the Alpha's plan all along? Not to rescue Dean at all, but to destroy the brothers from the inside out until they self-destructed or annihilated each other in the process?

Sam could feel the tears of self-disgust, pity and hate welling up within his eyes at his own stupidity. Because, here he was, repeating the same damn mistakes all over again; just like he did when he released Lucifer from the cage and now released Amara from her box; just like he had trusted Ruby with everything he had in him and now he had trusted the Alpha to keep his word and honour the deal they had made.

"Dean," Sam wailed helplessly as he drowned in his own inner turmoil, just wanting to know why he kept fucking up. "Why Dean?" he gasped, choking up on a sob. "Why do I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again? Why did I think that I could _trust_ him? Why am I such a God damned idiot and a screw up?"

Sam took in a tremulous breath and blew it out in a rush, not even thinking through his words, lost in his own grief and misery and seeing no end to this never-ending cycle of stupidity that he kept making.

"You shouldn't have saved me Dean. You should have left me in that world that Gabriel created for me and let my blow my damn brains out."

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** I have no knowledge of spells, curses, witchcraft, the occult or voodoo. I am completely using my own imagination and sorry if I offend anyone who practices in any of these things.

If you have a moment, let me know what you think.

Sorry about the long delay, real life problems got in the way, but just like with my other stories I won't give up on this until it's finished. Thanks to everyone for their patience and continued support.

**UNCORGIVABLE SOLUTION**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Dean froze at Sam's words, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach at the desolate look upon his younger brother's face, fear suddenly clouding his mind because this, right here, was what the older Winchester had nightmares about. And he had done for the past six months now.

The dejected tone, the despondent despair etched upon Sam's expression … Dean had seen it all before. He had witnessed it first-hand. The twisted torture of grief, guilt and disheartened agony that Dean could see within those lowered hazel eyes, caused a feeling of cold numb dread and horror to race throughout Dean.

The way Sam's shoulders hung in defeat, his body hunching up in misery, demoralized, humiliated, paralysed by a fatigue and weariness that was bringing the youngest Winchester down to his knees, the weight that he carried becoming almost too much for him to bear that the only way out would be for Sam to do the unthinkable.

All of this, the way his brother looked, the way he sounded, the way his body was trembling under all of that weight, was eerily similar to how Sam had been six months ago while he had been trapped in Gabriel's fucked up world; where "Bobby" had given Sam a gun and tried to convince Sam that the only way he could truly protect his older brother was if he ended his own life; where Sam had caressed that gun lovingly, looking at it as if it was the answer to all of his problems and the only way he could truly set his older brother free. But the look in Sam's eyes …

Dean shivered violently as he recalled the calm, steely resolve that had come over his baby brother's features as Sam seriously considered using the damn gun on himself and blowing his brains out.

Dean had never been so scared before in his life and he had only barely managed to pull his brother back from the dangerous, dark ledge. It had taken all that Dean had in him to convince his brother _not_ to use that gun; and only the heart felt words of Dean promising to follow his brother into death, had finally put a dent in his younger brother's armoured shell which had given Dean enough of an edge to finally talk some sense into that damn stubborn fool head of his.

Dean had vowed to never let Sam get that low again. He _never_ wanted to see that look enter his baby brother's eyes ever again.

But now, six months later, and it felt as if Dean was looking into a mirror image of how his brother had looked as he considered using that gun on himself and something within Dean snapped.

Before he was even consciously aware of what he was doing, Dean had jumped to his feet, his fear and concern coming out as anger as he placed his hands upon his younger brother's shoulders and shook him.

"Don't." Dean grounded out through clenched teeth, but even Dean could hear the desperate pleading in his own voice as he tried to physically shake some sense into his brother.

"Don't say that. Not ever." He demanded, voice shaking slightly despite how low and deadly his tone had become, even his brother's wide blown eyes filling with surprise and hurt as Dean's fingers dug into Sam's shoulders a little too hard, didn't deter Dean as he continued to shake his brother.

"I don't ever want to hear those words coming out of your mouth again, do you understand me?" Dean declared and the urgency within his tone didn't go unnoticed by the youngest Winchester.

"Do you understand me?!" Dean repeated when Sam just stood there, gaping at his older brother in shocked surprise.

"Y-yeah, okay Dean, I understand." Sam spluttered in confusion before the look in his older brother's green eyes suddenly made sense to him and Sam could have kicked himself for the thoughtless words that he had spoken in a moment of weakness and self-doubt.

It was the same look Sam had seen for the first month after Sam had escaped the alternate hell world that Gabriel had created specifically for him. Every time Dean had looked at Sam, he had gotten that look, almost as if he expected Sam to disappear on him at any moment.

Dean had been unusually hyper-vigilante during the first four weeks, always checking in on Sam, wanting to know where Sam was almost every minute of the day, smothering Sam with his over protectiveness to the point where Sam was ready to lose his shit and just _explode_ at his brother until one night, Sam had been woken up by the sound of his older brother's screams.

When Sam had gone to investigate and had realized that his older brother had been in the throes of a rare nightmare, Sam had started to relax until he had heard his brother's muttered, frightened words and his older brother's suffocating tendencies had suddenly become clearer to Sam.

Dean's biggest fear was failing Sam. But not just failing him. It was watching his little brother die and not being able to do anything to prevent it.

Sam had come close to killing himself six months ago while Dean had watched on helplessly, unable to stop or prevent Sam from doing the one final act that would separate the two brothers forever.

Sam hadn't realized how much that particular event had affected his older brother, how much damage and guilt it had caused within the older Winchester.

After that, Sam had good-naturedly tolerated his brother's overly manic, obsessive protectiveness until slowly Dean had come to the realization that Sam wasn't going anywhere or wasn't going to do anything stupid and had eased up a bit, that look of fear and concern leaving his older brother's eyes now that he knew Sam was safe.

Now, with those thoughtless words Sam had spoken, it had brought everything back and Dean had responded in typical Dean fashion … converting all of his fear and worry into anger.

Sam's expression softened in understanding when Dean released his death grip upon Sam's shoulders and took half a step back, blushing in embarrassment now at his sudden, impulsive anger.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean to say that. I'm just … frustrated, I guess." Sam let out a low sigh when Dean still refused to make eye contact with him. "I meant what I said back there Dean," Sam placed a hand upon Dean's arm, needing to convey to Dean the sincerity of his words.

"I'm _not_ suicidal. You don't have to worry," Sam offered Dean a weak, lop-sided grin when his brother finally met his eyes. "I'm not going to get all drunk and weepy, wanting to do a spell to undo all of the failures in my life and trapping myself in an alternate dimension of Hell. I promise." Sam added at Dean's blatant look of disbelief.

"Okay, good." Dean nodded, calming down once he realized that Sam wasn't heading down the dark, twisted path of self-destruction which had ultimately led Sam into thinking the only option he had left was to kill himself.

"Let me ask you something Sammy," Dean said a couple of minutes later when he still noticed the bitterly disappointed look that remained upon his little brother's features.

Sam glanced at Dean apprehensively, because that was a loaded question. "What's that Dean?" Sam asked cautiously.

"If you knew what you know now; knowing that the Alpha hadn't actually sacrificed the … _lead_ vampire like he said … would you have still gone ahead and struck that deal with the Alpha?"

"Yes." Sam answered immediately, without any hesitation what so ever. "It was the only way to get you out of Purgatory. So, yes, I would have still made that deal with the Alpha, even knowing what I know now."

"Okay." Dean nodded, not surprised by his little brother's response. "Then, let this go Sam."

Sam looked at Dean, puzzled by his brother's words.

"Take it from someone who's made a lot of deals with monsters in the past. No matter how air tight you think your deal is, monsters will _always_ find a way to screw you over." Dean pattered Sam's shoulder consolingly.

"Trust me, let it go dude. You'll only drive yourself nuts dwelling on the loopholes monsters find in order to undermine or find hidden terms of the deal that you weren't aware of."

Sam contemplated his older brother's words of wisdom and decided that his brother was right. There was no point in dwelling over the Alpha's manipulation of the deal they had struck.

"I get that monsters screw us over." Sam admitted in a low voice. "And I expected it. I waited every damn day for the other shoe to drop; for the Alpha to renege on the deal once he had gotten what he wanted, but … it never came Dean. The Alpha kept his word on _all_ of the stipulations to our deal and … I know he's a monster, but because he hadn't back stabbed me or tried to go back on his word I …"

"I get it Sammy, I do." Dean assured his slightly rambling brother. "And believe me, I know what you're going through. I mean, look how much everything went to shit when I tricked you into saying "yes" to Gadreel. I _believed_ he was one of the good guys, but … yeah, that didn't exactly go the way I had planned.

And then, what about the time Crowley tricked me into taking on the Mark of Cain in order to defeat Abaddon? I trusted a _demon_ Sam. And not just any demon but the King of Hell.

So, yeah, I think I know a little of what you're going through little brother. And even though all of that bad happened and I kept on getting screwed over again and again, it still wouldn't have prevented me from making those deals in the first place.

So, you've just got to suck it up and live with the consequences of your actions. Also, knowing that no matter what might happen, we still managed to _save_ people, helps the infamous Winchester guilt complex. Plus, on a very good day, we even manage to save the world.

Let it go Sam. Believe me, you got off lightly considering who you made the deal with." Dean chuckled softly, trying not to make too much of a big deal out of it; trying to relay to Sam that he wasn't the only one who had made mistakes, Dean had made his fair share of mistakes to.

Sam opened his mouth, ready to argue that Dean's transgressions were nothing compared to his own, before Sam shut his mouth without uttering a word and nodded, reluctantly conceding to his older brother's twisted sense of logic, otherwise they would go around in circles about this all night and Sam still had a lot to tell his brother before he completed his confession, honouring the deal he'd made with Gabriel.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief at his younger brother's reluctant acceptance to Dean's logic and gently tried to guide his brother back to the topic at hand. "So, just to make sure I'm understanding this correctly, the Alpha told you he knew the way out of Purgatory and was willing to send a _messenger_ into Purgatory in order to give me this information which would grant me my freedom?"

Dean deliberately left out the fact of the spell the Alpha had provided so that his messenger could return from Purgatory also. Dean also wanted to ask if this messenger of the Alpha had in fact been Benny, because that was the only vampire Dean had carried across Purgatory's gates, but by the wary suspicious look in his brother's eyes, Dean was afraid that if he pushed Sam too far, that Sam would clam up on him.

Dean would have a chance to get the answers to his questions later … although, Sam had basically confirmed for Dean that this _lead vampire _had in fact been Benny. And Dean _would _get down to the bottom of that later but for right now, he was more concerned with getting his younger brother to finish this confession so that the magically induced whip marks from the alternate world that his alternate father had caused, would disappear from his brother's back and stop causing the kid excruciating pain – like had happened earlier when the whip marks had ripped open – or the extreme uncomfortableness that they were causing Sam now, his body language portraying to Dean that the pain from those whip marks were starting to take a toll on his younger brother.

It definitely wasn't because Dean was reluctant to find out if Benny, the vampire he had trusted with his own life in Purgatory had been the one to curse his baby brother for life.

Nope. It was concern and worry for his little brother's well-being that kept Dean from asking the question he knew he should.

"What did the Alpha want in exchange for killing one of his own and passing on this information to me?" Dean asked instead of the question he _really_ wanted to ask.

Sam glanced at his brother, shrugging uneasily now because he knew his brother; and he knew that Dean would not like his answer but there was no way Sam could stop this now.

"Blood." He answered simply and honestly.

"Excuse me? Did you say …?" Dean shook his head, more confused than before because why the hell would the Alpha need Sam to get blood for _him_? Surely the Alpha could get that for himself … right?

"Blood. Yes, that's what I said." Sam nodded, more than amused at his older brother's loss for words, waiting another moment before he continued. "The Alpha wanted clean, fresh, _nonpoisonous_ blood."

Dean frowned, perplexed by his little brother's explanation. "Nonpoisonous blood? Why the hell would human blood be _poisoned_ in the first place?"

"Vamptonite." Sam answered with a smirk, knowing that he needed only to say that one word to remind his older brother about the leviathan's plans to fatten up humans, using them as cattle and a food source by altering their DNA to become poisonous to other creatures that fed off of humans, destroying their other competition for the food source that humans provided … creatures such as vampires and werewolves, for example.

Dean's confusion vanished in an instant at that word as he recalled Dick Roman's evil and insidious plans to take over the world, demoting humans from the top of the food chain and becoming food for the leviathan's insatiable hunger.

"Oh yeah, I remember that. But didn't we stop that from spreading? I thought you and Kevin destroyed the distribution centre so that the leviathan … _goo_ couldn't infect any more humans."

"We did." Sam sighed. "We destroyed the centre. But I later learned – from the Alpha – that the leviathan had back up distribution centres all over the country.

They weren't as big as the main distribution centre that we destroyed, but enough of the leviathan corn syrup got out into the country to infect people, which caused a hell of a lot of vampires to die."

Sam paused, letting that information settle before he sunk back onto the bed, barely holding in his groan of pain, the whip marks pulling upon his back at his continual up-right stance.

Carefully, Sam propped himself up on his pillows and tentatively leaned back to test if sitting like this would be painful or uncomfortable, but relaxed fully when the tension and the dull ache began to ease into a more manageable level as Sam laid his long legs out in front of him.

Sam wasn't surprised when a few seconds later Dean copied his brother's seating arrangement, their shoulders touching, a furrow of his brow indicating that Dean was processing and working through Sam's words.

"But … Dick Roman _died_. Wouldn't that have stopped the other distributions?"

"It did." Sam agreed. "After Dick Roman … exploded, the leviathan operation shut down almost immediately. There were a few leviathans who tried to fill the role of becoming the leader of the leviathan like Dick Roman, but by then, it was too late. The rest of the leviathan just didn't _care_ anymore." Sam explained with a shrug.

"But according to the Alpha, the leviathan had developed a new and improved recipe which caused the leviathan … goo to stay in a person's body much longer, and they didn't need to eat half as much of that corn syrup for it to be poisonous to the vampire population.

Apparently, the leviathan lesser distribution centres had already started shipping out their product _months_ before we even became aware of the leviathan's ultimate goal for taking over the world.

The main distribution centre was nothing but an elaborate diversion in order to take out you, me and anyone else who had discovered their plain in one foul swoop.

We were _lured_ there Dean. We were supposed to "discover" their evil plans. They knew we would try to stop them; try to sabotage their operation and they had already devised a back-up plan for such an encounter.

The whole purpose of the main distribution centre was to lure us in, think that we had stopped their plan before they killed us, or experimented upon us. Either way, we'd be out of their hair once and for all."

"Huh." Was all Dean could say about that, more than a little impressed with the leviathan's foresight. He hadn't expected them to put together such an intricate plan, able to outmanoeuvre the Winchester siblings and their allies at each new discovery that they had made.

Dean had thought that the leviathan had been nothing but wild animals that reacted to their basic need of survival, to feed and gorge themselves on everything and anything they could get their hands on.

And sure, in Purgatory, once Dick Roman had died, the leviathan had reverted back to nothing but primal creatures who gave into their animalistic nature. And, by the sounds of it, the leviathan still left on Earth after their leader's demise had all slunk off into the darkness, not caring about anything or anyone, becoming as dangerous as a house cat.

But Dean had underestimated them … well, he had underestimated the power and control that Dick Roman held over his fellow leviathan, organizing the rest of them into a logical, clear headed, thinking society with goals and dreams, being able to make their dreams become a reality as they came together as one and proceeded to take over the world, fooling _everyone_ into believing their bullshit story about wanting to help humanity by curing all human diseases.

Yeah, sure, they wanted to cure human diseases all right, but it wasn't to benefit humanity in any way. No, it was so their food source wouldn't die on them quickly or have any impurities that could be a danger to the leviathan.

It wasn't as if fooling every day, _normal_ people was all that difficult or hard, but being able to fool experienced hunters who had seen and lived through all kinds of crazy shit; who were instantly suspicious, skeptical and critical about _anyone_ who wanted to help out with no strings attached or hidden agendas what so ever … yeah, that took some real skill on Dick Roman's part. And Dean couldn't help but grudgingly admire the complete plan that Dick Roman had orchestrated … even the trap for them had been brilliant.

But …

"I admit that this supposed plan of luring us in and getting rid of us in one foul swoop sounds credible enough to be true. But, even if it is true … they didn't win Sammy, we did." Dean grinned over at his gloomy younger brother.

"They went to all of that trouble to lead us to the main distribution centre in order to kill us or capture us … but they didn't do either. Instead, you and Kevin took out the centre while I ganked their infallible and almost indestructible leader, Dick Roman."

Dean placed a hand upon his little brother's shoulder. "It doesn't matter what they planned or what they wanted to do to us because … we won. We killed their leader and stopped their plans for mass submission and obedience over the human race. That's what we should be concentrating on here Sammy. _We won_."

Dean's simplistic answer and the gleeful way that he proclaimed their victory over beings that had plotted against them, was infectious and Sam couldn't help but laugh along with his ecstatic sibling.

"I guess you have a point." Sam conceded wryly.

"Damn straight I do, Sammy." Dean agreed, grinning from ear to ear. "Because, no matter how superior they thought they were, lowly _human mortals_ beat them and stopped their diabolical plans in their tracks."

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

"Okay, so the vampire's food source was poisoned." Dean gently prodded his younger brother.

"That's right." Sam nodded. "A lot of vampires had died. The Alpha had advised his children to wait it out, that the leviathan poison would eventually be filtered out of people's blood and they could once again consume people without being poisoned and without dying.

But it had been two months already since Dick Roman's death and they'd had to go without human blood for months before that and they couldn't wait for too much longer.

So, thinking that the poison should be out of the blood by now, they started to feed once more … only to have them die or become so crazy that they had to be put down.

The Alpha was scared Dean," Sam admitted in a low voice. "His children were threatening mutiny if the Alpha didn't find a way to fix this. The Alpha tried to caution them and teach them patience, to counsel them that they wouldn't starve or die if they had to live off of animal blood until the toxins in humans cleared.

But the vampires were sick of doing that. And even though they could survive by drinking animal blood, a lot of them weren't as strong or healthy as they would have been if they were drinking human blood.

The vampire's started to divide into factions. They were scared and wanted the Alpha to get off his ass and do something about it."

"A vampire civil war," Dean announced in a mildly interested way. "That would be … interesting. Hey, do you think all of the vampires would waste themselves if they actually fought each other in a war?" Dean queried in an excited child-like way, because who wouldn't want to see vampires fighting each other?

Sam shook his head, smiling fondly at his older brother's child-like enthusiasm. "It sure would make our lives easier as hunters if they annihilated each other." Sam agreed, pretending to seriously consider his older brother's notions. "But, can you imagine all of the casualties that would occur in an all-out vampire civil war?

Not to mention that every day people would finally know that vampires existed, which would result in stupid manhunts to get rid of all of the vampires." Sam barely held back the smirk from his face at his older brother's exasperated, annoyed expression.

"Trust you to take all of the fun out of it." Dean muttered; his fantasy totally ruined now.

Sam couldn't help but laugh at his older brother's mock crest fallen expression. "_Anyway_, because the vampires were practically starving, they had become weaker, which meant taking on a normal human who hadn't been manipulated with leviathan goo was a lot more difficult and dangerous than it had been previously, which is why they would go after the more vulnerable, slower victims, but …"

"Let me guess, those people were vamptonite's and killed those vampires dead." Dean nodded in a knowing way as if all of this made perfect sense.

"That about sums it up."

"So what? Did the Alpha expect _you_ to collect people who had no vamptonite in them in order to feed his starving children?" Dean laughed at the absurdity of that situation. Yeah, as if Sam would do something like that.

"That's exactly what the Alpha expected me to do." Sam answered too calmly and matter of fact for Dean's liking.

"Wha – tell me you're not serious!" Dean spluttered indignantly now. "How the hell did the Alpha expect you to out there and pick up a random human who is _not_ infected with that leviathan goo? Sam, tell me you didn't do that. Tell me that you didn't offer up innocent lives to a group of blood thirsty vampires."

Sam's expression remained stoically serious, neither confirming nor denying Dean's claims, his normally expressive hazel eyes closed off, becoming unreadable to Dean as Sam continued to look at Dean in silence.

Dean shook his head, ready to dismiss these ludicrous ideas because his little brother would never stoop so low as to do that for _vampires_. His little brother may have a big, soft heart and he may have been desperate, but surely Sam wouldn't do something so …

Dean frowned, something flickering within his brother's eyes warned Dean that Sam wasn't fooling around here. "Sammy, please tell me you didn't do that." Dean whispered aghast at the thought that his baby brother might have been responsible for slaughtering dozens of innocent human lives all so he could honour a stupid ass deal that he'd made with the Alpha vampire for Dean's release from Purgatory.

"Sammy?" Dean half-pleaded, becoming extremely anxious the longer Sam remained silent.

Sam pursed his lips, needing another couple of minutes before he replied. "No." he whispered a tinge of condemned horror entering his tone. "I didn't hunt down innocent people so the vampires could feed and become strong again."

The relief Dean felt coursing through him at his brother's words didn't entirely relax or relieve him completely because the haunted, horrified quality he could hear in Sam's tone. Not to mention the shiftiness and edginess within Sam's eyes had his stomach clenching in nervous anxiety.

"But," Dean prompted half-heartedly, hesitantly.

"But that didn't mean I didn't consider doing it." Sam answered so softly that Dean almost missed Sam's words altogether, shame and guilt colouring Sam's checks. "I _was_ going to do it. To get you out of Purgatory I would have done _anything_. But …"

Sam lowered his eyes briefly, chewing upon his bottom lip before he met his older brother's concerned, anxious green eyes once again. "I'm sorry Dean, I couldn't do it. I was fine with sacrificing my own life, but I wasn't willing to kill innocent people to do it."

"It's okay Sammy," Dean breathed a sigh of relief, so glad that his brother hadn't crossed that invisible line and given into the darkness that resided in all hunters. "Not sure if I could have done that either kiddo … even if it was _your_ life on the line." Dean squeezed Sam's forearm reassuringly.

Sam glanced at Dean thoughtfully for a few seconds before he shook his head, smiling fondly, because his big brother would _never_ have welched out on a deal which could have saved Sam's life. He would have sacrificed all of the innocent lives that he had to if it meant he could get Sam back. And then he would have beaten himself up with the guilt of his actions for the rest of his life.

"Bet the Alpha didn't take your rejection to his deal well." Dean coughed, quickly changing the subject when Sam looked at him with those big hero worshiping eyes.

"Yeah, not so well." Sam scoffed, remembering the furious look within the Alpha's eyes when Sam had politely refused his offer. "Especially since he'd already fulfilled his end of the deal by sending his messenger to Purgatory as a sign of good faith and commitment. He was a tad … livid."

Sam chuckled humourlessly. "I honestly thought I wouldn't live to see another day. The Alpha had been so convinced that I was so desperate that I would do whatever he suggested. I think he was embarrassed more than anything else because he had underestimated my character completely.

You can't really blame him. This was probably the first time the Alpha had felt _true_ fear in all of his existence. His race was on the verge of extinction; his children were rising up to revolt against him because they were hungry and scared."

Sam paused thoughtfully. "You know, I think those seven vampires that he sent to retrieve me were the only vampires that still believed and trusted in him, remaining loyal to him even when their brothers and sisters were prepared to overthrow the Alpha. And now, because of me, the Alpha only had _five_ loyal children, ready to do his bidding. I know he's a monster and all, but … I kind of felt sorry for the guy."

"Of course, you did." Dean snorted, rolling his eyes sarcastically. That was so … _Sam_. To feel compassion for a monster? Yeah, only his big-hearted baby brother could do that. Which is what had made it easier to manipulate and prey on the youngest Winchester. All you had to do was to tell Sam a sad, heart wrenching story and he would do everything in his power to help you.

Kid was lucky that he had Dean around. Dean could spot a manipulative and BS story a mile away. Plus, with his borderline, almost pathological cynical, suspicious nature, it wasn't very often someone managed to pull the wool over his eyes, and he would warn his bleeding-heart younger brother of the dangers involved in trusting the wrong person.

Obviously, Dean's lessons had fallen on deaf ears because as soon as Dean was out of the picture – Hell, Purgatory – Sam immediately became a victim to the monsters' manipulative skills … Ruby being a prime example of that.

Dread began to fill Dean as he recalled some of Sam's earlier words that hadn't made sense at the time – like vampires being addicted to his blood – understanding now hitting him, even as he prayed his suspicions were wrong.

"Sammy," Dean began, trying to keep his tone neutral and calm even though his heart was beating wildly in his chest in horror at what he _knew_ his brother had done in order to fulfil the bargain he had made with the Alpha.

"Yes Dean?" Sam answered warily, something in his brother's tone or expression alerting Sam to the fact that Dean was desperately trying to keep his raging emotions in check.

"What did you do?"

Sam frowned, puzzled by his brother's question.

"You offered yourself up, didn't you? You offered to be … _food_ for those damn vampires, didn't you Sam?"

Sam's confusion vanished in an instant, not able to stand the anguished, accusing look within Dean's green eyes as he lowered his eyes to his hands which were still situated upon his upper thighs and were beginning to shake slightly.

Now. Now Sam was starting to get into murky water. Now was the beginning of Sam's shame and humiliation which would ultimately lead to Sam becoming nothing more than a blood hoar, who would willingly do the bidding of those vampires in order to get his daily drug fix so that he could pretend that he was anywhere else, rather than where he was.

Sam swallowed convulsively, his palms beginning to sweat, panic and fear beginning to surge within him because now … now would be the ultimate test for Dean. Now Sam would know whether Dean still wanted to stick beside him or if he'd finally had enough of Sam's dramas and screw-ups and decided to leave Sam's ass behind forever.

"Sam?"

Sam jumped at the gentle hand that rested upon his shoulder, tears gathering in his eyes, trying to control his breathing and not descend into the panic induced terror that wanted to consume him.

"Look at me,"

Memories came at Sam hard and fast, internally recoiling at the comforting, reassuring hand that lay upon the back of his neck, desperately trying to push through the memoires that suddenly assaulted him.

_Not now_, Sam silently pleaded. _Don't you __**dare**__ fall apart now!_ He reprimanded himself sternly.

He had to remain strong. He had to finish this. He couldn't fall apart now. Dean … Sam swallowed hard; Sam couldn't show any sign of weakness in front of his fearless older brother because that would cause Dean's protective instincts to flare to life, wanting to go on a murderous rampage. But Dean would never be able to follow through with that rampage because all of the vampires involved in his captivity – excluding the Alpha, and there was no way Sam would let Dean go after him! – were all dead.

"Hey, c'mon kiddo, look at me."

Sam closed his eyes at Dean's softly spoken demand-plea, determined to lock his damn emotions up as he quickly pushed those images to the back of his mind, angrily willing himself to stop shaking like some damn frightened little kid; composing himself as best as he could before he reopened his eyes and finally risked looking into his beloved older brother's green eyes, his hands clenched into fists in order to remain in control of his increasingly churning emotions, Dean's sympathetic, worried eyes searching Sam's expression almost frantically before his lips stretched into his patented big brother calm-Sammy-the-fuck-down smile.

"There we go," Dean applauded his younger brother, concerned at the wild, terrified look he could see within his brother's hazel eyes, automatically offering Sam a reassuring smile, squeezing Sam's neck in a soothing manner, his other hand covering Sam's clenched fists in an effort to calm his little brother down.

"I'm with you Sammy, you know that, right? No matter what you tell me," Dean continued in a low soothing, sincere tone. "It won't change anything. You get that, right?"

A shaky, abrupt, almost hysterical chuckle erupted from Sam, his bottom lip wobbling before Sam pulled his bottom lip under his top teeth and chewed upon his lip in nervous anxiety, a brief flicker of hope flaring within those big hazel eyes, hoping beyond hope that what he heard next wouldn't change Dean's opinion of him.

"Well, on the plus side, if you stick with me after you hear this … then _nothing_ will scare you off." Sam announced in a dry, cynical manner.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, facing his older brother's worried, concerned gaze. "Dean, if you … if this is too much and you can't … if you can't stand the sight of me after this, I'll understand if you want me to leave." Sam held Dean's gaze for several long seconds, hoping Dean could see the genuine honestly and forgiveness within his eyes. "Don't feel bad if that's how you feel Dean because all of this is a lot to take in as it is with an obedience curse and all.

But now … now you'll truly learn about things I _never_ wanted you to know. This is why I didn't say anything to you. This is why I let you think I didn't look for you and settled down for a normal life. This is why I lied to you for all of these years because I … I never wanted you to know how far I'd fallen … yet again … how far off the deep end I became; how much they … after a few months they … they _broke_ me." Sam choked up on that word because Winchester men didn't break, no matter what situation they found themselves in.

Sam hurriedly averted his gaze in order to get himself back under control, not wanting to see the condemnation or pity upon Dean's expression; trying to prepare himself emotionally to reveal to his big brother, his idol, his _hero_ about the second biggest failure in his life.

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** No excuses for this super long delay. Writer's block, real life and events that have affected the world have all contributed to this super long delay.

Sorry, I kind of went off track with this chapter. Sorry to all of the John fans out there, He isn't portrayed in a positive in either this chapter or the next.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Dean's stomach was twisting into big massive knots at all of the information he had received from his brother so far. But it wasn't only Sam's words which were troubling Dean, it was the tone of his voice, the tells that Sam was unconsciously exhibiting, not to mention the subtle body language Sam was giving off.

If Dean didn't know everything there was to know about annoying pain-in-the-asses-little-brothers, he would be completely baffled and beyond frustrated by now.

Although, to be perfectly honest, Dean _was_ feeling slightly baffled and extremely frustrated … not to mention that he was a little pissed off that his little brother would naturally assume that Dean would up and ditch Sam's ass once he found out the truth.

Dean had spent his life looking out for Sam, raising him, protecting him and sticking by him even when he made stupid mistakes; even when Dean was so angry with the kid that he could barely look at him, Dean had _never_ abandoned Sam; had never willingly walked away from him because Sam had wanted a life of normal. Dean had stuck with Sam through everything in their lives, including all of the apocalypse shit.

Sure, he might have gotten discouraged; and he might even have felt so tired and over everything that he wanted to give up, but he hadn't. He had sucked it up and had stuck by his brother because that's what big brothers did. That's what Dean had done for Sam ever since the rug rat was born.

So, why the hell would Sam think that Dean would just up and abandon Sam now? Did this kid honestly think that Dean _could ever_ walk away from him forever?

Okay, yeah, sure, Dean admitted that there were a couple of times where the two of them had gone their own ways ever since Dean had picked Sam up from Stanford to look for their wayward father, and some of those times Dean had done the walking away, but it was never for long and Dean had always kept an eye on his little brother because he was a such a damn trouble magnet.

But Dean would _never_ walk away from Sam forever. And to think that's what his little brother thought of him … it was both frustrating and heartbreaking at the same time.

What more did Dean have to do to convince this kid of his loyalty and trust? Had things gotten so bad between them that Sam no longer trusted Dean to have his back? Was this a direct result of Dean not being there when Sam had confronted Lucifer in the cage, in Hell?

No. That didn't make any sense. Sam was beyond grateful that Dean had risked his own life to follow him into Hell, to stand up against Lucifer on his little brother's behalf.

In fact, Sam had told the Devil that his big brother would kick his ass once Dean arrived on the scene. Sam had always known that Dean would come for him, so that meant that Sam still had faith and belief in his older brother … at least, _that_ aspect of their brotherhood had been mended and strengthened.

Plus, Sam didn't hold grudges … well, he didn't hold grudges where Dean was concerned. Sam had always forgiven Dean and had never blamed Dean for anything. So, to think that the kid was now keeping score and was blaming Dean for something that had happened to him, definitely didn't add up or ring true.

Sam obviously hadn't lost faith, belief or trust in his big brother, so why the hell would Sam expect Dean to walk away once he learned the truth?

Dean shifted to get a glimpse of his younger brother's eyes, hoping to gain more insight into his brother's state of mine when Dean glanced into those expressive hazel eyes, keeping his movements slow so as not to jar his little brother's injured back.

"You really think I'm such a shallow, insensitive bastard, don't you?" Dean couldn't help but spit out in scathing disappointment when Sam refused to meet Dean's eyes.

"What?"

That got Sam's attention as his head snapped up to look into his brother's eyes, his own eyes round with indignation and disbelief, as well as confused panic.

"Of course not." He denied sincerely, indignant conviction strong within his voice, the look of suborn, determination upon his younger brother's expression made it seem as if Sam was defending Dean's honour. "Why the hell would you say something like that?"

Dean rolled his eyes as if the answer should be obvious to the younger Winchester. "Well, it's obvious that's what you think. Why else would you say that I would turn on you or ever kick your ass out the door once I learn the truth?" Dean couldn't help the hurt that clung to his tone even though he was going for sarcasm and nonchalance.

Sam frowned, denying Dean's words with a firm shake of his head. "Dean, you are the _least_ shallow person that I know," he began, his voice strong with belief as he earnestly tried to explain what he meant to his overprotective and sometimes overly sensitive – especially when it came to Sam and how others perceived how Dean treated Sam – older brother.

"Really?" Dean interrupted incredulously, waving his hand about in an agitated kind of way. "Is it because I left you to face Lucifer alone? Is that why you have so little faith in me?"

Sam gasped at Dean in shock, perplexed and dumbfounded by his older brother's statement.

Wow.

Dean must be feeling more self-conscious and vulnerable than Sam had thought to immediately jump to a ridiculous conclusion like that. "No, Dean." Sam shook his head at his older brother's stupid leap of logic, his voice stern and sure, even in the face of his big brother's agitation.

Sam had to put a stop to Dean's self-destructive guilt right now before his brother claimed that guilt and it warped out of context and into typical Dean Winchester guilt when his-little-brother-had-gotten-hurt-and-Dean-could-have-prevented-it-from-happening guilt.

"You didn't _fail_ me Dean," Sam declared, Dean's eyes slipping away from him in the classic big brother move which meant that Dean didn't agree with Sam's statement.

"I _chose_ to face Lucifer alone. I made that decision, not you. You told me to contact you, to not go anywhere unless you were with me, but Crowley wasn't exactly in a patient mood."

"I didn't answer your call Sam," Dean replied, hanging his head dejectedly, shame and regret colouring his tone, his agitation turning to frustration. But Sam knew that frustration wasn't directed at him, it was directed inward because of Dean's warped sense of older brother's duties.

Sam only barely refrained from rolling his eyes at his older brother's stupid guilt complex that he had when it came to Sam's well-being, laying a hand upon Dean's arm in order to get his brother's undivided attention.

"Dean, look at me," Sam implored, nodding in satisfaction when Dean's eyes automatically rose to meet Sam's once more. "_I_ was the one who decided to follow Crowley into Hell to face Lucifer. And the only reason I did that was because I _knew_ that you could come after me as soon as you could.

I _knew_ that you would come Dean." Sam insisted, seeing the emotion and gratitude enter his older brother's green eyes. "You didn't fail me. I knew you would come for me and you did. You squared off against the Devil himself, in order to save me without a second thought to what might happen to you.

So, no; I don't blame you for that. Nor have I ever lost faith in you. Not for one second, okay?"

Dean could only nod in response to his little brother's instance, emotions clogging him up, not able to speak right now as he swallowed convulsively, trying to get his emotions back under some sort of control.

"Good." Sam nodded, satisfied by the look he could now see within his older brother's eyes. "And contrary to what you may think, not every action I take that ends badly or where I get hurt is automatically your fault." Sam quipped, trying to give his older brother an out of the suddenly emotional tone this conversation had taken. "You know that, right?"

"Oh, believe me, I know." Dean chuckled, relieved to know that Sam didn't blame him for that slight oversight of letting his brother face Lucifer alone.

But, even though Sam had relieved the tension with a little light banter, and Dean could tell that Sam believed everything he had just said, there was still … _something_ bugging him about why Sam would automatically think that Dean would kick Sam's butt to the curb once he knew Sam's deep, dark secret. Just what exactly was Dean missing here?

"Okay," Dean nodded. "So, you obviously don't see me as a shallow person. But you didn't say anything about me _not_ being an insensitive bastard."

"Well, you're not perfect Dean." Sam smirked, giving Dean a one shouldered shrug, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes letting Dean know that he was teasing. "We've both got our faults, and you being an insensitive bastard is one of them. Just like being extremely smart, an amazing back-up partner and being unnaturally handsome are some of the burdens I have to bear."

Dean burst out laughing at that. "Yeah, you _wish_ you were even _remotely_ handsome." Dean retorted good naturedly, nudging Sam's shoulder affectionately.

"So then, if I'm such an awesome big brother, why the hell do you think I would ever kick you out?" Dean asked, not upset or offended anymore, more curious now to know exactly how his little brother had come up with that particular scenario.

Sam let out a low sigh of exasperation. He should have known that his big brother wouldn't let a comment like that slide. And Sam knew that Dean wouldn't stop pestering him about this until he got an answer he was satisfied with.

Memories from Sam's childhood flooded into Sam's mind of his past mistakes and screw-ups, almost getting Dean killed in numerous hunts because he had been distracted – because he was ill or was hunting with a barely healed injury or his head wasn't in the game because he'd gotten into an argument with his Dad before the hunt and he was still fuming over the words that had been shouted between the oldest Winchester and the youngest Winchester – and had acted too cavalier, not scanning his surroundings like he should have been doing, not paying enough attention to what was going on around him, where his brother was or where the supernatural creature was that they were hunting that week.

Sam could distinctly remember one particular time in the past, when he had almost gotten his big brother killed because his head had been filled of the argument he'd had with their father not more than two hours earlier.

Sam shuddered, vividly recalling how _terrified_ he had been when he realized just how close his beloved older brother had come to becoming extremely hurt or dying because of him and his distractions, remembering the sharp, anguished, surprised cry from his older brother that had immediately snapped Sam back into reality and he was moving before he even had time to process what was going on, his head totally in the game now.

Even though Sam had managed to kill the supernatural beast they had been hunting, he hadn't been fast enough to stop the creature from badly mauling his older brother before Sam had disposed of the creature and done his damn job like he was supposed to.

Dean had been so badly mauled that their father had immediately diverted to a hospital – which the oldest Winchester tried to avoid unless absolutely necessary – where Dean had spent the next two weeks in and out of consciousness, having numerous surgeries, not to mention the complications his brother had obtained because infection had set in.

Needless to say, Sam had _never_ become distracted like that again – especially not because of words he might have exchanged with his father or because his head wasn't in the game – and the punishment he had received for almost getting his brother killed …

Well, let's just say that was the one and only time Sam could recall his Dad ever deliberately beating him.

Maybe it was because of the alcohol the oldest Winchester had consumed or maybe it was because he was scared, worry for his oldest boy, that made him lash out … Whatever the reason, by the time John Winchester was done with Sam, Sam had almost needed a hospital bed of his own.

As it was, Sam had spent those first few nights out in the cold, handcuffed to the railing of the mostly private motel room they had acquired for the hunt. Sam had taken his punishment silently and not whined about it because he _knew_ this was the least that he deserved for almost getting his older brother killed.

Of course, once John had come down from his bender of three days, and he realized what exactly he had done to his youngest as punishment, he had quickly taken off to a new hunt once he knew Dean was out of danger and would make a full recovery.

Sam had seen the regret enter his father's dark eyes as he unlocked Sam from the handcuffs, tears beginning to shimmer within his eyes as he took in Sam's injuries, knowing that _he_ had been the one to cause his son these injuries, his mouth opening up in apology, his eyes expressing more sadness and sorrow than Sam had ever seen in them before, before John had closed his mouth and closed himself off as he checked his youngest son over before he had high-tailed it out of there, leaving Sam with a wad of cash as if to make up for what he had done in his inebriated state.

Sam hadn't minded the physical punishment. In fact, he knew that he had deserved it. But what had hurt the most was being away from Dean for those first three days, not knowing how his brother was, not knowing if Dean was going to live or die, had been absolute and pure torture for the sixteen-year old Winchester.

When Dad had left and Sam was finally able to visit Dean and saw the true extent of his older brother's injuries … knowing that he was directly responsible for his big brother being in the hospital … that was one lesson Sam would never forget.

Thankfully, Dean hadn't had full recollections of the events that had occurred the night he had been almost mauled to death and Sam was able to explain his own bruises and injuries away by blaming them on the creature they had been hunting.

To this day, Sam hadn't revealed the truth to Dean of how he had actually acquired his injuries all of those years ago, and no matter how much Sam and John had argued after that incident, John had never gotten that drunk again, nor had he ever raised a hand to his youngest ever again.

"Sammy?"

A gentle nudge from Dean brought Sam out of his past memories and back to the present once more.

"I nearly got you killed Dean," Sam couldn't help but whisper, the images of that time haunting his mind.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean bristled beside him, taking great offense to his younger brother's whispered confession.

"Back when I was sixteen and I got into that huge argument with Dad about having to leave because I wanted to go to that stupid school dance. It was the first time Dad had let us hunt alone. I was distracted and I almost got you killed." Sam explained in a low, subdued voice. "Do you remember?"

Dean frowned, searching his memories of that time. They had been in a lot of places when Sam had been sixteen, and there had been lots of school dances his geeky little brother had wanted to go to, especially since Dean had been leaving Sam alone a lot more often in order to pursue his own enjoyment by hustling pool, drinking and engaging in the company of beautiful women.

At twenty, Dean had sought company in the arms of random women, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, while taking the lead stage of the pool tables, all while letting out his frustrations in bar brawls, their Dad leaving them to fend for themselves a lot more often … especially after the incident that had landed Dean in hospital for two whole weeks.

After that, John had been around less and Sam … well, Sam was never the same again after that. After that incident, Sam didn't want to go to anymore school dances; after that, Sam listened and did everything Dean told him – including training, which Sam had _always_ _hated_ with a passion; after that Sam had become so withdrawn and quiet that Dean had feared his brother had suffered some kind of permanent brain damage.

Sam had only gotten this quiet and withdrawn once in the brothers lives, and that had been Phoenix, Arizona. Dean had often suspected that something more had happened between Sam and Dad – because _both_ of them had seemed to change drastically after the incident that had landed Dean in hospital for two damn weeks, and that was too much of a coincidence for Dean – but no matter what Dean said or did, he had never been able to get to the bottom of it.

Of course, it wasn't long before Sam was back arguing with their father, but he never went against anything Dean said or suggested. It wasn't until Dean had picked Sam up from Stanford to search for their wayward father, had Sam started to speak up against Dean's every order and suggestion.

"You spent two whole weeks in hospital, doped up on drugs, fighting off fever and infections … not to mention all of those surgeries you had to have to put your insides back _inside_ of your body, remember?" Sam prompted.

"That the time you were covered in bruises, sporting a dislocated shoulder, plus a fractured wrist?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Trust Dean to associate memories with past injuries Sam had received. Dean could rattle off all of Sam's injuries in any given situation.

"Trust you to remember my _minor_ injuries while you were lying in a hospital bed, fighting off a deadly fever and infections that could have killed you in an instant." Sam scoffed playfully.

"Yeah, I remember that." Dean replied, his tone serious and sombre because even though Dean had been hurt, he had _known_ that something hadn't been right with his little brother.

That story about that creature causing Sam's injuries _did_ make sense, because it wasn't as if Sam hadn't gotten hurt on a hunt before. In fact, he had gotten hurt far worse on other hunts, but Dean had instinctively known that Sam hadn't been telling him the full truth about it.

"You were too quiet, too withdrawn and you had a … haunted look in your eyes that scared the crap out of me. You gonna tell me what really happened between you and Dad? And why Dad suddenly disappeared like that? Not to mention, why the hell he gave you all of that cash."

Sam glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help the fond smile that twitched upon his lips. "There's no secret there Dean. I _told_you, Dad got a call after a three-day bender to go and help out another hunter with a hunt and he decided to go." Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "You know how restless Dad gets; how guilty he feels when one of us in the hospital. And he left the money to pay for the motel we were renting plus any meds you would need after getting out of the hospital and told us to meet him when we could."

"Yeah, since when does Dad give us a whole month off of hunting?" Dean retorted sarcastically, instinctively knowing that something wasn't adding up here. It had bugged him all of those years ago too, but he had brushed it aside as his overactive imagination. Now that Dean was a little older and wiser, all of those inconsistences he had felt about that whole situation came flooding back.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that Dad was deliberately giving us all of that leeway because he felt guilty about something. I know that man. And the only reason he ever gave us space or showered us with money was because of guilt; because _he_ felt guilty for his actions. And nine times out of ten, that would happen because Dad had drunken too much, saying something or doing something that would hurt us."

Sam blinked back the hurt the truth of those words caused him before he faced his older brother, his expression as open, honest and neutral that he could get it. "Who knows?" Sam shrugged again, dismissively. "I'm just tell you how it went down. But the reason I brought that up was –"

"You never mentioned Dad was on a bender before."

"What?" Sam's heart thudded loudly in his chest as Dean gave him that big brother look. The one where Dean had caught him out on a lie.

"You never mentioned that Dad was on a three-day bender before. And I thought that the hunter who needed help, met Dad at the bar?"

"Yeah, no, of course he met Dad at the bar." Sam offered Dean a nervous chuckle, hoping to throw his brother off.

"But you just _said_ the hunter called Dad."

Yeah, he should have known something as simple as an off-hand chuckle wouldn't deter his older brother.

Sam shrugged for a third time, hoping for relaxed and unconcerned. "It was a long time ago Dean. So, I got a few things mixed up." He replied in an off-hand manner.

"Sam," Dean warned in his stern, no-more-bullshit tone, not buying Sam's innocent act at all. "What happened between you and Dad?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh, more annoyed at himself because he was the one who had brought this up, making Dean suspicious all over again. "It doesn't matter," Sam dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I didn't bring this up to discuss the relationship between me and Dad, which we both know has been filled with lots of explosive arguments between us because we could never quite see eye to eye on things. I brought it up to try and explain to you why I think you should leave my sorry ass behind forever or to kick my ass to the curb."

Dean eyed Sam closely, not liking the way his brother was avoiding this topic altogether. Obviously, Dean was onto something big here. Something _had_ happened between Sam and Dad all of those years ago. And if Dad had indeed been on a bender like Sam claimed he had, then … _anything_ could have happened between them.

Maybe … and this thought made Dean feel sick to his stomach because their Dad had _never_ raised a hand to either of them in anger … but maybe _Dad_ had been the one to cause Sam's injuries in a drunken training session that had gotten out of hand, for instance, and not the creature that had caused Dean's own injuries.

As much as Dean wanted to deny that thought with everything in his being, he couldn't. Because if Dad had hurt Sam – either deliberately or accidentally – in a drunken … _anything_, then it would definitely explain some of the reservations Dean had had about that whole situation.

It would explain John's sudden disappearing act; it would explain John giving Sam all of that cash and letting Dean heal for a good month before joining their father on another hunt; it would explain John's sudden desire to leave the brothers to fend for themselves while he hunted either by himself or helped other hunters on their hunts.

It would explain Sam's sudden quiet and withdrawn attitude, not to mention his sudden compliance and obedience to Dean's rules and suggestions; it would explain why Sam had never pursued anything extra-circular out of school again, why he had never hung out with his friends, why he was never interested in getting to know girls and why he had never gone to school dances ever again.

Oh, dear God, that would explain _everything_.

Dean felt as if his entire world was being turned upside down, images from that alternate world of Hell Sam had been transported to flashed before his eyes as he recalled the beatings Sam had received from that world's John Winchester.

Dean had been shocked and horrified – still was actually – to think that _any_ version of their Dad would ever raise a hand to either Winchester sibling. And especially not Sammy, considering how John had drummed it into Dean at a young age to always protect and watch out for the youngest Winchester.

But, as much as the knowledge of that drunken, abusive, misguided version of his father had beaten Sammy in such a callous and methodical manner – because he thought he could _beat_ the evil out of his youngest son – had appalled and sickened Dean, he had been comforted by the fact that _his_ Dad would _never_ have done something so cowardly and horrendous to _either_ of his sons.

Now … If Dad had actually had a part in Sam being covered in bruises, sporting a fractured wrist and a dislocated shoulder – which, oddly enough, hadn't even been put back into place by the oldest Winchester – then everything Dean had ever believed and thought about that man had been an absolute farce. Everything John had ever taught Dean about training, hunting, respect and family being all that mattered was nothing but a crock of shit.

If John Winchester had gotten drunk and … _hurt_ Sammy in such an abhorrent manner, then everything that man had stood for and believed in was a complete and utter lie.

Dean was used to being disappointed by his Dad's constant broken promises over the years. And he could even accept that the man had a great number of flaws. But this … if what he suspected had happened was true, then John Winchester was nothing but a bully and a damn hypocrite, which meant that Dean had been totally blindsided and bedazzled by the _image_ that John Winchester portrayed – a hero, bad ass hunter, who hunted evil sons of bitches and saved innocent people – rather than see the man for what he truly was … a poor excuse of a father who frequently abandoned and let down his boys, more worried about his image of being a tough-as-nails-demon hunter, rather than _be_ a father to his two sons.

"Sammy," Dean began, his hoarse voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears, noticing as Sam glanced across at him warily, unconsciously moving slightly away from his older brother, which caused Dean to become confused until he realized that his jaw was aching because of how hard he was clenching it, his hands balled into fists, his body trembling in anger.

Seeing the cautious, anxious look within his younger brother's eyes made Dean pause before he proceeded with what he had to say.

Sam thought Dean was angry with him. Of course the kid thought Dean was angry with him. Sam was in the middle of his confession, trying to explain to Dean what had really happened while Dean had been trapped in Purgatory and why Sam had given up hunting and searching for his big brother.

And now, when he was trying to express why he thought Dean should abandon him or kick him to the curb once Dean learned the full truth, Sam had unintentionally revealed something about their past that he had probably never intended to reveal.

Something that had to do with Dad. Something that had happened years ago and something that had always niggled at the back of Dean's mind, screaming at him that something more had happened between the patriarch and the youngest Winchester.

Sam knew how Dean felt about Dad. Sam knew that Dean had _always_ defended Dad to Sam, to other people and even to himself. Sam knew, as far as Dean was concerned that their Dad could do no wrong in Dean's eye and how Dad had always done the best he could for the two of them.

So, of course Sam was feeling apprehensive and nervous right now because the poor kid had no idea on how Dean was going to react after hearing something negative being said about the great, almighty John Winchester.

Dean made a conscious effort to unclench his jaw and uncurl his fists as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dean had been so blinded by his father's impressive _image_, that through his very own actions and words, Sam had come to believe that Dean valued Dad over him.

Damn, that was so screwed up! Dean's entire life had been based around the very kid seated before him and the fact that Sam thought for even one second that Dean would _ever_ choose Dad over him.

Dean could see how Sam had come to that ridiculous conclusion, but it still made him both mad and sad at the same time. It was time to get rid of his brother's ridiculous, preconceived notions once and for all.

Dean's expression automatically softened in an attempt to help soothe his anxious sibling, unconsciously trying to reassure Sam that Dean wasn't angry with him, just concerned and worried in his typical big brother way.

"Sam,"

"Yes, Dean?" Sam quired, still hesitant and wary, hoping and praying that his big brother would drop this issue from the past and let Sam carry on with his confession before he lost all of his nerve, which would ultimately lead to Gabriel transporting Dean to his own version of Hell.

"Okay, to start off, I'm not kicking you to the curb." Dean announced sternly, seriously, letting that sink in for a moment before he continued. "Nor will I leave you, no matter what you still have to tell me.

We have been through too much crap in our lives for me to just turn around and walk away now. If I had wanted you out of my life, I would have done that a long time ago, okay?"

"Okay," Sam replied hesitantly, still unconvinced, but willing to give his older brother the benefit of the doubt for now. Besides, it wasn't as if Sam wanted Dean to leave or he wanted their brotherhood to come to an end. He'd just wanted to assure Dean that it was all right if that's what Dean _had_ to do once he'd learned the full truth.

He was trying to absolve his big brother of his irrational guilt. Because, no matter what Dean thought, what Sam had done while Dean had been in Purgatory, had been his choice; his decision. And although most of his captivity at the vampires' hands had been out of his control, he had still made the decision to agree to the Alpha's deal. It had been _his_ choice, and not his big brother's burdens to bare.

"Well, just wait until you know the whole truth before you decide _not_ to walk away, okay?" Sam offered Dean a lopsided, sad smile. "And I'm sorry if I insulted you. I don't want you to go, you know that, right?

I just … I _know_ how much of a pain I've been over the years, how I have never taken hunting seriously and have almost gotten you killed several times, now that I think about it. Not to mention all of the times you got into trouble with Dad while covering my ungrateful ass.

And through all of those times and inconsistences, no matter how much I kept screwing up, you still stuck by me. All I was trying to say was, a person can only take so much before … well, before you lose faith in that person who keeps screwing up and doesn't seem to be learning from their mistakes. If this is too much … I will understand if … well, if you need some time apart." Sam felt his checks heat up in embarrassment as his older brother continued to look at him sternly, although his green eyes had softened slightly, while Sam waited uncomfortably for his brother's reaction to those words.

Dean shook his head, sighing in exasperation, because this was _so typical_ of his little brother. And it was so damn _stupid_ to worry about Dean's sanity, absolving him of any wrong doing or guilt over this whole thing, because if Dean had wanted out, he would have done that a long time ago. Probably back during the first apocalypse when Sam had chosen Ruby over him.

Dean had been done. He couldn't see any other way that he could bring Sam back to them. And if it hadn't of been for Bobby reminding him that family wasn't supposed to make things easy or Castiel letting slip that Sam may be in some kind of danger … Dean feared that he may have walked away for good that day.

But he hadn't. And thank God he hadn't, because there had been numerous times over the years that Sam had saved not only Dean's life, but also his sanity. The brothers' lives would always be intertwined with each other's. They would always be there for each other, no matter how angry or pissed off they got at each other. Because family came first. And Dean would prove this to Sam by _not_ walking away once he knew the truth.

But first … first Dean needed to get to the bottom of what had really happened between Sam and their father all of those years ago.

Dean placed a hand upon his brother's shoulder and squeezed slightly. "I'll try not to take everything you said at face value because you're upset and not thinking clearly; plus you know everything you're saying is all crap. You covered my ass just as much as I covered your ass.

And you were _not_ a needy kid Sammy. You never asked for much and would make do with the jackets that hardly fit you because you'd just gone through a growth spurt and you _knew_ Dad didn't have the money for such trivial things like keeping you warm and dry." Dean tried for a joking manner, but even he could hear the hard edge in his tone. "But we'll discuss that later. For right now, you need to tell me what happened between you and Dad."

"C'mon Dean," Sam moaned, pouting slightly now. "Can't you let this go? I already _told_ you what happened."

Dean distinctly noticed that Sam's voice had risen a couple of notches and he wasn't far off of displaying his irrational anger, hoping to divert Dean's attention from this topic by making Dean angry. But Dean was determined to get to the bottom of this right here and now.

"Yeah, you told me an edited version of what actually happened." Dean replied as calmly as he could, while letting his brother know that he was deadly serious about this and wouldn't be letting this go until he got the complete truth. "Now, how about you tell me what _really_ happened."

"Dean," Sam sighed, his hazel eyes flashing in warning for Dean to back the hell off right now.

"Okay, I can see that you're going to be a stubborn bitch about this," Dean relented, although his expression remained deadly serious and unmoved by his sibling's subtle warning message, which would normally make Dean back off. "So, just answer me one thing. Did Dad do that to you? Did he dislocate your shoulder? Fracture your wrist?"

"What?" Sam gasped, shocked by the directness of Dean's questions, frantically searching for a way to tell his over protective, blood-hound, older brother what he wanted to know so that he would back off of this topic once and for all, without devolving either too much of the truth or flat out lying to him.

"Did Dad dislocate your shoulder?" Dean stubbornly persisted.

"No!" Sam denied loudly, not having to lie about that because the dislocated shoulder had been his own fault and had nothing to do with Dad's intense training, punishment session; which had resulted in Sam's bruises and his fractured right wrist when Dad had pulled his right arm up behind his back in an attacking hold, encouraging Sam to get out of the hold.

"Dean, no! Of course not! What kind of a question is that?" Sam let out an irritated sigh when he noticed that Dean didn't believe anything he was saying. "_I_ dislocated my own shoulder, okay?"

"You dislocated your own shoulder?" Dean repeated incrediously. "How the hell did you dislocate your own shoulder?"

"I don't know." Sam shook his head in frustration, impatient to get his older brother off his back about this because this incident wasn't a big issue and they had more important things to discuss. "I think I may have yanked on my arm in my sleep, forgetting that I had the damn handcuffs on." Sam answered automatically, honestly, distractedly, but stopped and stared at his brother in shock when he realized what he had just said.

Dean's eyes widened slightly at Sam's words, his mouth opening and closing almost comically before his mouth slammed shut and his eyes narrowed in classic hyper-manic-protective-big-brother mode and Sam _knew_ that there was no way he could avoid telling Dean the truth now.

"Did you just say _handcuffs_?!"

Ah, fuck.

It was at times like this that Sam wished Dean was like other, _normal_ brothers who didn't get into mama-bear-protective mode whenever their sibling had gotten bullied or gotten into trouble with their parents and would tease their sibling instead of lecturing them until they had gotten to the bottom of the issue.

But the fact of the matter was, that the Winchester siblings hadn't grown up like normal brothers. They had grown up in the hunting life, with an absentee father and only each other to rely on. So, _of course_ Dean was going to get all protective and shit whenever Sam was in trouble. Just like Sam would get all protective and defensive whenever Dean was threatened or people talked shit about his big brother.

That was just how the two brothers worked.

And as much as Sam wished Dean would just let this matter drop and forget about it, Sam knew by the look within Dean's deeply, anger filled green eyes, that he would have a better chance of winning the lottery than he would getting Dean to drop and forget about this topic.

Sam let out an inward sigh. Tonight was now going to be a hell of a lot longer than Sam had originally anticipated.

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own the supernatural characters.

**Warnings: **Harsh language, violence, thoughts of self-incrimination, mentions of self-harm, implied torture and sexual abuse, implied rape.

**Author's Note:** I am still struggling with this story, struggling to put my thoughts into actual words, but I will get there. And I will keep plodding on until I finish.

Sorry, I kind of went off track with this chapter. Sorry to all of the John fans out there, He isn't portrayed in a positive way in either this chapter or the next.

**Special Thanks: **to **Cricket Dancing** for your enthusiastic review. And thanks to everyone else who has read added this story to their favourites, your support is greatly appreciated.

**UNFORGIVABLE SOLUTION**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Sam really didn't want to get into this right now. He knew that Dean would see what had happened completely different than what Sam did. Sam saw it as a lesson in how distraction could almost get your big brother killed while on a hunt.

Was John's methods a bit harsh, bordering on abusive? Yeah, maybe. But as far as Sam was concerned, it was a lesson that he needed to _learn_, and it was a lesson that he would never forget, had never forgotten.

"Look Dean, it's not what you think," Sam held up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to back-peddle, frustrated with himself for revealing what he had – he was obviously more tired and distracted than he had thought to have let that slip out – because now Dean was going to get all moody and he was going to _blame_ himself, even though Dean had been stuck in the hospital, fighting for his life when this had occurred.

Dean's eyebrows rose impossibly high before he chuckled darkly, his green eyes flashing with deadly fury. "Yeah, well, what I'm _thinking_ is that Dad _beat_ you during one of his infamous "punishment" training sessions – which I have been on the receiving end numerous times over the years, by the way – causing your bruises, your fractured wrist _and_ dislocated your shoulder because he was _drunk_, frustrated, angry and scared and you were the only one he could take his frustrations and fears out on at the time.

Tell me Sammy, how close to the _truth_ is that? You didn't get your injuries from the creature we were hunting at all; you got them from _Dad_. And then you _lied_ to me about how you got hurt in the first place.

Tell me I'm wrong."

"Dad didn't _beat_ me Dean." Sam sighed in resignation. "It was a fair sparring match; I just wasn't fast enough to dodge all of Dad's attacks."

"A fair fight!" Dean exploded loudly. "Sammy, you were _sixteen-years old_. That wasn't a fair "sparring match". _He beat you_. Plain and simple."

The hurt Sam could see within his brother's eyes caused Sam to feel even worse than he did right now. "He didn't _beat_ me." Sam stated stubbornly, definitely. "I needed to be taught a lesson. I needed to learn that the world doesn't revolve around me and that being distracted in _any_ situation could mean the difference between your life or your death. I needed to see that I had to _grow_ up and stop acting like a spoilt, selfish child. I needed to –"

"That all sounds suspiciously like something _Dad_ would say, Sammy." Dean interrupted his younger brother, becoming more pissed off the more Sam tried to defend their father and his inexcusable actions.

It hadn't escaped Dean that Sam hadn't denied Dean's words of what he thought had happened, Sam instead trying to justify John's actions with statements that John had probably drummed into the kid's head while he'd _beaten_ him or when he'd handcuffed him …

Dean closed his eyes, trying to reign in his anger and the nauseous feeling that had his stomach twisted into knots before he opened his eyes and faced his brother once more.

"Tell me what happened Sammy," Dean urged, his composure as calm as it could be, considering the circumstances.

Sam eyed his brother closely for several seconds before he nodded, surrendering to his older brother's demands. "Okay Dean," he reluctantly relented. "But I don't want you to make a big deal out of it, okay? It happened a long time ago and I honestly see it as a valuable learning experience and in no way _abusive_ at all, okay?"

"Okay Sam, but how about you let _me_ decide for myself whether it was a justified punishment or Dad was just a drunken bully who wanted to use you as a punching bag in order to stop his own inadequate feelings of guilt and fear?" Dean couldn't help but retort.

Because, as far as Dean was concerned, no _kid_ deserved that kind of "lesson" and definitely not Dean's kid brother who had already been reeling with guilt and remorse because Dean had gotten hurt on his watch.

But maybe he was wrong …

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

Nope, Dean had been right.

It wasn't justified punishment at all. It was all because John Winchester had been _scared_ and _drunk_ and had taken it out on _his_ kid. And the worst thing about this whole thing was that he had brainwashed Sam into believing that Sam had _deserved_ that crap!

If Dad wasn't already dead, Dean would have had a hard time not killing him on the spot. Because this … what he had done … it was unforgivable. It was inexcusable and –

"Dean, can you _please_ stop pacing and snarling?" Sam's soft, quiet pleading voice interrupted Dean's internal debate.

Dean paused in his pacing and spun around to face his brother's distressed expression, who was seated upon the edge of his bed, his hands twisting nervously within his lap, unsure if he should offer his brother comfort in touch or if he should just stay where he was and let Dean work through it himself.

"You do realize how _wrong_ it was of Dad to do that, right?" Dean demanded, a note of pleading and remorse in his voice.

Sam shrugged his shoulders apathetically, obviously not agreeing with Dean's assessment of the situation. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this Dean." Sam said in a subdued, tired tone, not wanting to aggravate his brother any further, but also not willing to agree with Dean's version either. "I was disciplined because I made a mistake."

"_Disciplined_?!" Dean exploded incredulously. "Discipline would be _grounding_ you or taking away your favourite toy, not sparring with you in an unfair match or handcuffing you to the God damned railing for _three whole days_ while he continued to drink away his problems."

"Taking away my favourite toy?" Sam couldn't help but grin at his brother in amusement at that particular odd statement.

"Sammy, I'm serious here!" Dean snapped, wanting his brother to take this more seriously. "What Dad did … it wasn't _discipline_, it was _abuse_ dude, plain and simple."

Sam's amusement slipped from his features as he let out a long, heavy sigh. "Okay, I will admit that maybe Dad's methods were a bit … excessive."

"Finally, we're getting somewhere!" Dean threw his hands up in the air, raising his eyes skyward, thankful that his brother was taking this more seriously than he had been.

"But I don't think it was abuse either."

Dean let out a long-infuriated sigh at Sam's admission. "C'mon dude! You can't honestly tell me that what Dad did was okay. If Dad had done that to me, would you think it was fair or justified?" Dean asked, deciding to turn this whole situation around, hoping that his brother would see it for how it really was and not what Dad had put in the kid's head all of those years ago.

"No, of course not." Sam replied, sounding offended by that question.

"Why?"

"Because you would never have fucked up like I did!" Sam retorted, his voice rising to match Dean's.

"That's crap Sam. I screwed up a lot on hunts too, and Dad _never disciplined_ me like that."

"That's because you didn't almost get anyone killed because you were distracted over a stupid school dance, Dean." Sam retorted, becoming increasingly frustrated with his older sibling now. "I never took hunting seriously and the training Dad made us do seemed like a complete waste of time to me.

I acted arrogantly; always questioning Dad's motives, always picking fights with the man just because I didn't like what he said. I never _listened_ Dean. Not like you did.

Half of the time I thought Dad was a miserable, lonely old man who had wasted his life on a fool's errand and I didn't want to end up like that, Dean. I wanted better for me. For you. And even for Dad.

And because I didn't take it seriously, because I continually argued with one of the best hunter's in the hunting business; because I always thought Dad was _wrong_ … _I almost got you killed_!" Sam stood to his feet and quickly moved to stand in front of his older brother and Dean immediately became concerned at the pain and torment he could see upon his younger brother's features.

"You coded at the hospital _twice_ while I was there. I almost _lost_ you. And all because I was distracted by an argument I'd had with Dad about going to a _stupid school dance_.

What Dad did … as far as I was concerned, I got off _lightly_. Nothing Dad had said or did before this was getting through to me. I didn't understand the seriousness of it all. All I wanted was normal. And wanting normal … _that_ almost caused me to lose the most important person in my life."

Sam grabbed hold of Dean's shirt and pulled Dean closer toward him, but it wasn't anger Dean could see in his kid's eyes, it was dismay, it was utter devastation of the memories that were now circulating within the younger sibling's mind.

"You didn't lose me Sammy," Dean reassured his distraught sibling, instantly reverting to calm-Sammy-the-fuck-down-mode, his tone lowering into calm, concerned and soothing. "I'm right here, man." He stated, placing his hands upon either side of his brother's face in an effort to ground his brother in the here and now.

"Look at me dude. I'm right here. You didn't lose me, okay? And even if you had … it wouldn't have been your fault. Accidents happen man. Especially on hunts … you know this first hand. But what Dad did to you was _wrong_.

You were only a _kid_, Sammy. And kids _are selfish_. The world _does_ revolve around them. And of course, the most important thing on your mind is a school dance."

Dean smiled softly when he saw understanding suddenly beginning to dawn within his brother's eyes, although there was still too much defiance and conviction still etched upon Sam's features for Dean's liking. Still, at least this was step in the right direction.

Dean slipped one of his hands behind his brother's neck and squeezed gently, encouragingly. "You should have told me Sam. You should have told me the _truth_. You shouldn't have lied and said that the creature caused your injuries."

"I didn't _lie_." Sam denied passionately. "You came to that conclusion yourself and I … I just didn't correct your assumption."

Dean gave Sam a measured look, patiently reminding himself that Sam wasn't deliberately being difficult; he was just having a hard time accepting the truth that what Dad had done to him all of those years ago had been _abuse_ and not justified discipline.

What struck Dean as odd though – and, if he was being truthfully honest with himself, had hurt Dean more deeply than he was willing to admit – was that Sam hadn't told him the truth about what had occurred with Dad.

Dean had thought that they'd had a really close bond when they had been younger because of the life they lived and because they only had each other as a constant in their lives; their Dad not as dependant or reliable as most other parents because of the hunting life that he had led. And no matter what was going on in their personal lives, the one thing the siblings didn't do was to lie to the other about what was happening in their lives.

So, the fact that Sam hadn't told him what had happened and had let Dean believe that the creature had caused Sam's injuries, really cut deeply into the core of Dean's being. Had Sam not trusted Dean enough to tell him? Did Sam think that Dean wouldn't believe him? Or …

Dean stopped short as a particular disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him. "Did … did Dad tell you _not_ to tell me what happened? Is that why you never said anything to me?" Dean asked, his heart hammering inside of his chest as he voiced that distressing thought as one of the possibilities on why Sam hadn't said anything about it for all of these years.

Sam could see the hurt and betrayal upon his older brother features. And, of course, Sam should have expected this. It was always _Dean's_ fault somehow when Sam did something stupid or decided not to reveal the full truth of the situation.

Sam was about to get really pissed off with his older brother's insufferable guilt complex, when the questions his brother had asked filtered through to him and Sam couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the lengths his brother's paranoia would manifest itself.

Yeah, as if Dad could have shut Sam up about that! Sam had always been stubborn and bull-headed. And nothing his Dad had said or done had ever stopped Sam from speaking his mind. If he had wanted Dean to know what had happened, Dean would have known, it was as simple as that.

"No Dean. Dad didn't "threaten" or "warn" me not to tell you about it." Sam quietly reassured his older sibling, his expression open and honest as Dean quickly scrutinized Sam's features to make sure Sam was tell him the truth, nodding silently when Dean's expression relaxed slightly, having found no deceit within Sam's expressive eyes.

"I honestly think Dad was more surprised that I _didn't_ mention it." Sam laughed. "Remember when we reconnected with Dad a month later how quiet and subdued he was with us?"

Dean took a moment to search his memories of that time and even had noticed how skittish the old man was with them; how he avoided looking at them directly and even how he didn't seem to be drinking nearly as much as he had before.

Dean had been suspicious, of course, but when he finally got up the courage to question him about it, John's eyes had lowered to his hands, his expression more sad than Dean had seen in a long time and had shrugged dismissively, explaining Dean's questions away by saying that he'd had a "wake-up" call and had to try and do thing differently from now on.

Dean had found his Dad's cryptic answer even more confusing than his abnormal behaviour, but not one to question his Dad, Dean had just accepted his Dad's explanation without delving more deeply into it.

"Yeah, I remember," Dean murmured regretfully. Annoyed with himself because if he had only _pushed_ a little harder …

Dean shook off his morbid thoughts, knowing that he didn't have the luxury to dwell in his own guilt right now. Later, he would kick himself for not putting together all of the signs his father and younger brother had been displaying to realize that something serious had happened between his father and baby brother.

Okay. Dad didn't threaten Sam not to tell Dean the truth. So, the question remained; why the hell hadn't Sam told him about this then? And the only way Dean was going to get an answer to that was to ask Sam himself.

Dean was preparing to ask Sam that exact question when Sam's eyes suddenly clouded over, his whole body beginning to shake, holding onto Dean's shirt more tightly before his whole face contorted into anguish and pain, a ripping sound echoing through the room as Sam turned his face away from Dean before he promptly hurled at Dean's feet.

"Fuck!" Dean swore loudly, helping the slow the descent of his violently heaving little brother to the ground as he noticed a new whip-scar that had emerged upon Sam's back and was now bleeding freely.

Shit! That's right, mystical whip-scars that were caused from another time-line's John Winchester was now opening one at a time upon his baby brother's back as an incentive caused by that fucking trickster-archangel _douchebag_ Gabriel, for Sam to honour that deal he'd made with Gabriel to reveal what exactly had happened to him when Dean had been transported to Purgatory.

This was obviously Gabriel's warning for Sam to stop procrastinating and to proceed with his confession because the new whip-scar didn't look anywhere near as deep as the others.

But, by the way Sam had promptly thrown up, the pain was obviously bad. Sam only ever threw up like that when he was in an excruciating amount of agony.

Right. Questions of their Dad and the past later. For now, in order to stop his kid brother's continual agonized pain, he had to hear Sam's confession and then, hopefully, these magically induced whip-scars would disappear forever.

"Easy baby brother, I've got you." Dean soothed, one arm across his brother's upper chest in order to support Sam and stop him from face planting into his own vomit; his other arm settled across Sam's shaking, broad shoulders as Sam continued to heave, gut-wrenching sobs emulating from him, tears beginning to roll down his pale checks, throwing up causing more pain to radiate from the wounds upon his back.

"Don't worry buddy, it will be over soon." Dean promised, feeling inadequate and utterly useless, knowing that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help his brother other than to use useless, soothing, empty promises, reassuring Sam that he wasn't alone and that Dean was with him.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

"How are you doing buddy?" Dean inquired, quickly giving his younger brother the once over, relieved to notice that Sam's colour appeared to be returning to normal, his long, lanky body propped up by pillows, his breaths coming more easily and freely, and even the lines of pain upon his face was slowly beginning to fade.

"Better," Sam said, offering his brother a half-hearted smile in an attempt to ally his protective older brother's fears.

Dean eyed Sam critically before he nodded, satisfied with his brother's honesty before his pushed the chair he had gotten from the kitchen, closer to his brother's bedside and sat down.

"Do you need some more water?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." Sam's smile was more natural and stronger now, which caused Dean's anxiety to ease down another notch.

"How's your back?" Dean prepared to stand up again in order to inspect his brother's back but was stopped by Sam's hand laying upon his own arm.

"It's fine Dean. Pain is a lot more bearable now."

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself once you stopped hurling all over the carpet." Dean snorted in a light-hearted, sarcastic manner.

Sam's eyes automatically searched out the spot where he'd vomited and felt his checks heat up with embarrassment, a child-like shame filling him. It had been years since he'd been in that much pain that it had made him sick.

It had been mortifying when he'd been fifteen-years old and had the same reaction after a particularly gruelling training session, followed by a hunt that saw Sam gain a few non-life-threatening injuries.

And, even knowing – mentally – that he hadn't had any control over that kind of reaction, Sam couldn't help but feel like he was fifteen-years old again, being fiercely berated by his Dad who'd had the unfortunate luck of being within Sam's vicinity when Sam had up-chucked all over himself and all over Dad's new shoes, feeling humiliated and frustrated with himself, shame and embarrassment surging within him, tears beginning to prick in his lowered eyes before Dean had breezed into the room, carrying the first aid kit under his arm, telling Dad to shut up and back the hell off, while reassuring Sam that everything was fine, leading Sam to the bed in order to patch his younger brother up, not worried or concerned about the vomit smell, which was waffling up from the teen's t-shirt.

Sam felt a fond smile pull on his lips at the memory because Dean had never worried about stuff like that. He'd never gotten mad at Sam when he'd had explosive diarrhoea or when he'd trekked in dog poo or even when Sam had accidentally wet the bed they'd been sharing when they'd been younger … or vomited in the bed during the night because he'd picked up a stomach bug.

Dean had always just been _Dean_; quickly cleaning Sam up while reassuring his brother that it was okay, showing compassion and kindness instead of anger and frustration.

Dean followed his brother's gaze and almost sighed out loud, because _of course_ Sam would be embarrassed and worried about making a mess when he'd been totally at the mercy of his body's reactions.

"It's fine Sam," Dean said gruffly, almost shortly as he quickly diverted his brother's attention away from the mess on the carpet and back to him. "Don't worry about it. We'll just replace the carpet or rip the whole carpet up if we can't get the smell out of it. It's no big deal, okay?" Dean asserted, smiling in approval once Sam's eyes met his own once again and nodded shyly.

"You've always been like that." Sam murmured quietly, gratefully. "You've never been disgusted or moved away from me, no matter what bodily fluids I was covered in or projecting at the time."

Dean shrugged, surprised by his brother's comments and self-conscious by the same awed, hero-worshiping tone Sam had used when he'd been younger. "Of course not. Why would I be disgusted by things that are out of your control?"

"Dad always was." Sam remarked bitterly, eyes down cast. "He always seemed impatient with me. And no matter what I did, it was never good enough. But whenever I was … _sick_, I would always catch that same disappointed, disgusted look upon his face right before –"

"Before I walked in and told Dad to get out, right?" Dean finished off his brother's thought, waving it away as if it was no big deal. "Don't worry about him. Dad was an _ass_. Especially when it came to _either_ of us being sick."

Dean peered at his brother closely, letting Sam see how serious he was before he continued, their previous conversation not leaving him entirely. "I know we don't have the time to rehash or talk through Dad's abusive punishment techniques that he used on you."

Dean's eyes flicked over to Sam's back meaningfully before he returned his gaze back to Sam. "But I just wanted you to know that you could have told me. You could have told me what Dad did Sammy, I would have believed you. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that." Sam assured Dean. "You always believed _everything_ that I told you." Sam smiled gratefully. "That wasn't why I never told you. In fact, maybe that's _why_ I never told you; because you would have believed me."

Dean frowned, totally confused by his younger brother's words. "Come again?"

Sam paused to regather his thoughts. "I really didn't think it was a big deal. I wasn't lying about that. But … what would you have done if I had told you?"

"I would have packed our bags and ditched the old man _after_ having a few … serious words with him." Dean answered instantly, without any hesitation what-so-ever.

"Exactly," Sam nodded as if that should have explained everything but Dean was more confused than before. "It would have split us up. But we needed to be _together_ Dean, because we're family and all we had in this world was each other. Also …"

"What?" Dean gently prompted.

"He was sorry Dean." Sam added, watching Dean's face twitch in irritation before Sam hurried on to explain. "You didn't see his face Dean." Sam insisted. "Once Dad realized … the look in his eyes … I'd _never_ seen him look like that Dean, not ever. He was _sorry_, I could see the shame and sadness and … _horror_ within his eyes. He … he didn't mean it. And he was sorry."

Dean didn't doubt that fact for a second. He should be sorry because his Dad never should have treated Sam like that in the first place. He _deserved_ to feel shame, sadness and horror for what he had done.

And while Sam seemed to be able to forgive and forget any indiscretions his family had done to him over the years – including Dean – without a second thought, Dean couldn't do it. He couldn't forgive his Dad for _abusing_ his baby brother. And he would _never_ forget it.

It was lucky John Winchester was already dead otherwise, Dean feared he may have killed the man on principal alone because _nobody_ messed with Dean Winchester's little brother.

Still, although the old man was dead, there were ways that Dean could conjure a spirit. Maybe he would bring John Winchester back and give him a very stern talking to before putting his father's spirit back to rest in an extremely _painful_ way.

That was definitely worth considering, but first … the fact that Dad had even done something like this caused Dean to vibrate with anger – because he should have known, damn it! – but what terrified him the most was if this … _abuse_ had happened again. Had Dad been continually _hurting_ Sammy right under his nose for years? Or had this been a one-time thing that _never_ should have happened in the first place?

"Yeah, well, we will just have to agree to disagree about that. Maybe us leaving his sorry ass behind was what he deserved after the childhood we had." Dean spat out bitterly. "But we'll talk about this later, once your back stops splitting open and gushing blood."

Sam nodded, knowing this was one subject Dean wouldn't let go of until they had _talked_ about it, but Sam could also see the unasked question within his big brother's eyes, the fear that because of that one time, John had decided to take out his frustrations on his youngest son … and not in a healthy way.

"It only happened that one-time Dean," Sam answered the unasked question, knowing that Dean would never actually ask it himself, knowing that the uncertainty and not knowing would eventually drive his big brother crazy.

"What?"

"Dad _never_ raised a hand to me in anger ever again after that, no matter how much I argued with the man." Sam placed a hand upon his big brother's arm and squeezed lightly when he saw Dean's uncertainty. "It only happened once Dean. I promise, okay?"

Dean searched his brother's expression closely for several seconds before he nodded, internally relieved that his baby brother hadn't been physically abused by his father for years without Dean noticing; relieved that the alternate version of their lives Sam had lived through in Gabriel's created world had not become a reality in their lives, in their world.

**DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW**

"So, in order to fulfill the deal you made with the Alpha to get me out of Purgatory, you elected to become a smorgasbord for vampires instead of going out there and acquiring innocent victims to feed on?" Dean gently reminded his younger brother, wanting to hurry up and get this over with so that his brother's back would return to normal and this awkward chick-flick and emotional talk would be over and done with.

"Yeah, pretty much," Sam agreed dryly, glancing up at his brother and noticing his extremely worried, angry expression before Sam chuckled, knowing exactly what his brother was thinking because of all of the years he had studied and looked up to his big brother. "And, _no_, they didn't crack open a vein on my neck and immediately chow down … at least, not right away anyway." Sam added under his breath.

"At first it was all … clinical and professional; like donating blood actually. I would fill five lots of tubes three times a week, but the tubes only held about 10mls; so, all up I was only donating 150mls of my blood per week.

The normal amount of blood you would give when donating blood is 470mls, and that's just in one sitting. I was well under the limit of that and in no danger of becoming sick or suffering symptoms of blood loss.

It was all safe Dean." Sam assured his protective older sibling who was frowning in worry and concern. "And it was only temporary; until the blood in people stopped being toxic to vampires, killing them or making them sick.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew that my body wouldn't be able to sustain donating blood like that – no matter how small it actually was – for a long period of time. It was agreed that this … "arrangement" would last for one month … two months tops.

By then, the vampires should be able to feed again without fear and I would be free to reunite with you; our deal coming to an end and everything returning back to a semblance of normality."

But, instead of easing Dean's worry, Sam's words only caused Dean to become more concerned, his expression grave and serious, knowing by his younger brother's dismissive, cold-hearted tone of voice that it wasn't as cut and dry as Sam made it out to be.

"All safe?" Dean couldn't help but scoff at that. Yeah, as if giving blood to a hoard of vampires was safe! Who the hell did Sam think he was talking to here? He wasn't some gullible "normal" person who didn't know all about the weird shit that surrounded them on a day to day basis. He wasn't some hysterical "witness" that the brothers encountered on their numerous hunts over the years, needing to be reassured that what he had seen or witnessed was a natural phenomenon or a trick of his mind.

He was Dean fricken Winchester.

He knew shit. And he knew all about the different type of supernatural beings who hid in the shadows of their everyday lives.

And he _knew_, through Sam's mannerisms, his tone and even the choice of his words, that his baby brother was down-playing what had happened in order to protect his big brother and to spare him from the horrors that Sam had no doubt endured at the hands of those twisted, psychotic vampires.

Because that's what the Winchester siblings did. They down-played things. They acted as if what they had been through was just another typical day in the life of being a hunter.

Those were the hazards and pitfalls of being a hunter; sometimes you got captured; sometimes you got hurt; sometimes you almost died; sometimes you got tortured; and sometimes, on really bad days, you had such a shitty go at it that you made a deal with a _monster_, having to endure torture – physically, mentally, or sometimes both – on a day to day basis because you'd gotten screwed over in the deal and you didn't have time to read the fine print of the deal you had struck with said monster.

Yep, Dean Winchester knew this method of coping with horrors you wanted to down-play or physically scrub from your memory forever because he had been through this method _many_ times in his life.

Plus, he knew how his little brother operated when he was hurting and almost at breaking point. And this … this was classic hurting little brother to a tee.

"Yeah Dean, it was safe. The procedure was exactly like giving blood at an actual clinic or for medical reasons." Sam retorted almost defensively. "The whole thing seemed kind of surreal, you know?" Sam chuckled nervously. "I mean, who ever heard of _vampires_ performing the same procedure we use in order to donate blood?" Sam's laugh was bordering on an almost hysterical quality now.

Sam abruptly cut off that laugh, knowing that if he descended into hysteria, or broke down into uncontrollable sobs of despair, then he might never be able to recover from it.

Calming and controlled deep breaths overtook Sam now as he tried to contain his rising emotions, trying to contain the horrific images that would soon be bombarding his mind, trying to contain his very sanity and not spiral down into his anguish, fear, confusion and guilt that wanted to consume him whole.

Sam fought to re-establish a calm, detached manner, despite the churning, conflicting emotions that were quickly rising to the surface. He had to remain strong and in control. He had to push those images of what was about to occur to the back of his mind. If he had any chance of fulfilling the deal he had made with Gabriel and tell his brother about his experiences while Dean had been stuck in Purgatory, then he had to separate himself from his turbulent emotions right now.

Sam cleared his throat a couple of times before he felt confident about continuing without that hysterical quality that had entered his tone. "It was kind of a bizarre experience," Sam continued, his voice not quite as steady as it normally was, but at least it had lost that hysterical quality. "Vampires collecting blood like us normal, mortal humans … if I wasn't so terrified that one of those vampires would lose control and drain me of my blood, I would have burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all."

Sam paused thoughtfully, not daring to look at his older brother right now in case he lost what composure he had managed to regain; concentrating on keeping his damn girly emotions at bay.

"Now that I think about it, maybe those five vampires didn't outright attack me and do what vampires instinctively do because the Alpha was there, in the background, overseeing everything. They had to behave and maintain a level of professionalism, least they get of the bad side of the Alpha and incur his wrath." Sam chuckled dryly humourlessly, feeling that hysteria bubbling just under the surface again.

Okay, deep breaths hadn't helped as well as he thought it would. Maybe if Sam kept talking while deliberately _not_ thinking about everything that was about to come, he could overcome this damn feeling that he was going to break into a million pieces, not sure if he would ever be able to recover ever again.

"They were acting like _children_ who didn't want to anger or upset their father, which is kind of ironic in a way because who would have guessed that vampires would be concerned about wanting validation and approval from a mostly absentee father figure?

Huh. I guess we can relate to that, right Dean? We always had to strive for approval and validation from Dad. Well, maybe you didn't have to, but I know that I sure as hell did." Sam's chuckle was dangerously close to a sob now and he could feel his bottom lip wobbling, which was a sure sign that Sam was going to break down and bawl like a baby at any moment now.

Dean placed a calming, soothing hand upon his brother's arm, noticing that Sam was rambling now, his body was tense and rigid, even while he tried to maintain the calm, aloof exterior he had adopted at the beginning of this confession.

But Dean wasn't fooled.

He knew this kid too well. He knew that his brother was nervous, worried and scared. And he also knew that his brother was stalling, which meant that they were about to head into the part of the confession that Sam had never wanted Dean to know about; why he hadn't told Dean the truth and why he had kept up the charade of hitting a dog, meeting a girl and settling down for normal, effectively abandoning Dean to his fate in Purgatory.

Because what Sam had admitted so far … Yeah, it pissed Dean off, his big brother protective fury flaring into life at the thought of those vampires ganging up on his poor, defenceless, drunken little brother; plus he was worried and concerned about the repercussions of the deal Sam had agreed to with the Alpha vampire, not to mention learning that his kid brother had been branded with a life-long obedience curse … But it wasn't bad enough or severe enough to have caused that haunted look that now resided within his younger brother's large, expressive hazel eyes, or Sam having adopted that pained, guilty tone, his posture indicating to Dean that Sam _thought_ Dean would be so disappointed and ashamed of him, that Dean would – and _should_ – abandon him.

All of this … what Dean had learned so far … Sam could have _told_ him all of this. Sure, Dean would have been _pissed_. Pissed that his brother had gotten hurt, pissed that his brother had made a deal with a _monster_ in order to get Dean out of Purgatory, but Dean would have understood.

This was bad, there was no arguing or denying that, but it wasn't bad enough to have kept the kid silent for all of these years. Dean _knew_ that the worst was yet to come. And judging by his younger brother's demeanour and the lengths he was going through to avoid this topic or to prolong it for as long as he could, revealed to Dean that what Sam told him next would have Dean absolutely livid, wanting to rip out the lungs of those vampires and give them a slow torturous death.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, mentally trying to prepare himself for what his baby brother was about to tell him; was _terrified_ to tell him, coaching himself to remain calm, to remain strong, to be supportive before he rushed out in his crusade to hunt some rouge vampires who had fucked with the wrong Winchester.

**TBC**


End file.
